"Nonsense, Blanche! Mollie is out of her reckoning about us three. By the bye, I see now through those queer advertisements that have appeared in the 'Herald' of late. Black Mask—White Mask."
"Yes; Mollie wants to find out whom she has espoused. By Miriam's advice, she inserted that first advertisement to Black Mask. He, as you perceive, replies in to-day's edition."
"And she is to meet him to-morrow night."
"Exactly; and will, unless you forestall him."
"How?"
"Don't be stupid, pray. What is to hinder you from being at the place of rendezvous first and playing Black Mask?"
"I beg your pardon; I am stupid still. Black Mask will be there himself."
"Look here: ten is the hour. Toward evening I will advance every time-piece in the house, Mollie's watch included, half an hour. She will be at the place of tryst at half past nine. Be you there, likewise—cloaked, bearded, bewigged. Have a carriage in waiting. Make her think you are Hugh Ingelow, and she will enter it without hesitation. Speak French. She will not recognize your voice. Once in the carriage, carry her off."
"Where?" asked the doctor, astonished at the rapidity of all this.
"To Long Island—to the farm. She will be as safe there as in Sing Sing. Make her think you are her unknown husband. It will be easily done, for she half thinks it now. Only—look out for the strychnine!"