Either the excitement of his coming triumph or the brandy he had taken had made him recklessly wild.
He drew her along, heedless of her struggles, her passionate protest. His face was flushed, his dark eyes gleamed; he was ready at that moment to face and defy devils and men.
"Don't make a fuss, my darling. You've got to come along," he exclaimed. "Of course, you have scruples and all that. I think the more of you for them, but you'll thank me for not listening some day. I'll bring you back after the ceremony's over and set you down at your own gate, if you say so, I swear I will," and as he spoke he caught her in his arms and fairly thrust her into the vehicle, placed her on the seat and sprang in beside her.
The door closed with a bang and the horses were off like a flash.
Too terrified to utter another word of protest, and half fainting from fright, Faynie sank back, gasping, into the farthest corner. Her companion turned to the man sitting opposite.
"My friend, Smith, Faynie," he said by way of introduction, and adding, before the other could utter one word to acknowledge the introduction, "let's have a little more of that. I'm chilled to the marrow with the cold, standing out there in the snow."
There was a faint move of the little bundle huddled up in the corner. She fell forward in a dead faint.
"So much the better," cried Kendale. "She will not bother us until we've had time to formulate our plans. Ha, ha, ha! how easy it is for a sharp-witted fellow like myself to make a million of money!"