The Quaker had no doubt expected that by that time he would break out into rough violence, as before; but he had misjudged. From some cause unknown he did not, though the wild eyes grew more than scintillant—they glared like those of a wild beast at once in pain and at bay. And he made no answer except a "Humph!" that seemed to be uttered between closed lips—half an expression of contempt and half a groan.
Nathan Bladesden, intent upon his "business," went on.
"I will not trouble thee long, Dr. Philip, but thee had better pay attention to what I say, for I am very much in earnest and not to be trifled with, to-day, as thee will discover. If thee remembers, I came here the last time to rescue Eleanor Hill from thy villainous hands—"
"Eleanor Hill!" This was not an exclamation of surprise, but a veritable groaning-out of the name.
"Yes, Eleanor Hill," pursued Bladesden,—"after thee had broken off my marriage with her by poisoning my mind against the poor girl thee had ruined in body and soul and I believe robbed in fortune. The morning of that day I had been weak, and driven away by thee: that afternoon I had been moved to do my duty and to take her away from the hands of a seducer and a scoundrel—to shelter the lamb from the wolf, though it was torn and bleeding—to make her my sister if I could not make her my wife."
"Is that all—all? If not, go on!" groaned out the hoarse voice through the set teeth.
"No, there is somewhat more, Dr. Philip—and that of the most consequence," the Quaker continued. "When I came, the poor girl was gone—gone from thee as well as from me. Then I heard that she had gone among the soldiers of the army, doing the work of the Master and healing the sick. She was away from thee and doing the duty of merciful woman, and I was content to wait until she had finished. But to-day I learned that yesterday she came back again."
"Oh, my God!—he will kill me!" groaned the answering voice, deeper and more hoarse than ever. But the Quaker went mercilessly on.
"No, I think that I shall not have need!" he said. "Thee is cowardly as well as base, and thee will obey and save thy life. I heard, I say, that she had come back to this house of pollution, and I have come to take her away. Give her up to me, at once, that I may place her where thee can never harm her and never even see her more, and that is all I ask of thee: refuse me or try to prevent my removing her, and I will take thee by the throat, here, now, with these hands that thee sees are strong enough to do the duty of the hangman—and strangle thee to death!"
There was fearful intensity, very near approaching momentary madness, in the voice and whole manner of Nathan Bladesden, before he had concluded that startling speech; but if he could have looked keenly enough he might have seen on the face of the doctor something more terrible than any word he had uttered or any gesture he could make. His eyes rolled wildly with a glare that was only one remove from maniacy; his whole countenance was so fearfully contorted that he might have seemed in the last agony; and his frame shook to such a degree that the very chair he held jarred and shivered on the floor with the muscular action.