'Our interview shall be brief, and to the point,' said the mysterious visitor. 'I am he who is called the Dead Man, and I am not disposed to quarrel with the title, for I like it.—You and your history are known to me; it matters not how I obtained my information; you are styled Mrs. Belmont, a widow—but you are the discarded wife of Francis Sydney, and half an hour ago you engaged yourself in marriage to Mr. Hedge, the owner of this house.'
Julia started with alarm, for she felt that she was in the power of that terrible man.
'What is the object of your visit?' she asked.
'Listen and you shall know. I have a secret subterranean cavern which communicates with the cellar of this building, and 'twas by that means I entered the house to-night. Myself and friends often find it convenient to carry stolen goods through this house into our den; and in order to have the place all to ourselves, we have heretofore frightened away the people who have come here to live; thus the house is reputed to be haunted. 'Twas our design to frighten you away, also; but having discovered who and what you are, I've concluded to explain the mystery, and set up a copartnership with you.'
'And in what business can we possibly be connected together?' asked Julia, with ill-concealed disgust.
'In the business of vengeance!' thundered the Dead Man, foaming with rage. 'Tell me, woman—do you hate Sydney?'
'I do!—and would sell my soul to be revenged upon him,' she replied with flashing eyes.
'Enough!' cried the other, with triumphant joy—'I knew you would join me in my plan of vengeance. Now, madam, from this moment we are friends—partners, rather let me say—and there's my hand upon it.' And he gripped her hand almost fiercely, while she shuddered at the awful contact. It seemed as if she were touching a corpse.
'Hereafter,' continued the miscreant,—'you shall rest at night securely in this house, undisturbed by pretended ghosts. Do you see these wounds and bruises?—for them I am indebted to Sydney; my wife is a raging maniac, and I am also indebted to him for that—and by eternal hell! when I get him in my power, he shall die by inches; he shall suffer every slow torture which my ingenuity can devise; his brain shall burn, and when death shall end his torments, I have sworn to eat his heart; and by G——, I'll do it!'
'But how will you get him into your power?' asked Julia, delighted with the prospect of revenging herself upon poor Frank.