"I shall plead no more," said Mollie, proudly, turning away; "your heart is of stone."
"Will you consent to marry me, Mollie? Remember the terms. One week from the hour that makes you my wife will see you going forth free, if you wish it."
"Free! wish it!" she repeated, with unutterable scorn. "Free, and bound to you! Wish it, when for that privilege I sacrifice myself forever! Oh, you know well I love my liberty dearly, when I can not lie here and rot sooner than leave my prison your wife! But, man—demon—whatever you are," she cried, with a sort of frenzy, "I do consent—I will become your wife, since my only chance of quitting this horrible dungeon lies that way!"
If Mollie could have seen the face behind the mask, she would have seen the red glow of triumph that overspread it at the words; but aloud he spoke calmly.
"My happiness is complete," he said. "But remember, Mollie, it will be no sham marriage, that you will be at liberty to break. A real clergyman shall unite us, and you must promise me to make no appeal to his sympathy—to make no attempt to converse with him. The attempt would be quite useless, but you must promise."
"I promise," she said, haughtily; "and Mollie Dane keeps her word."
"And I keep mine! A week from the ceremony you go forth free, never to be disturbed by me again. I love you, and I marry you for love and for revenge. It sounds inconsistent, but it is true. Yet, my promise of vengeance fulfilled, I shall retain you against your will no longer. I will love you always, and you will be my wife—my wife, Mollie. Nothing can ever alter that. I can always say hereafter, come what will, I have been blessed!"
There was a tremor in the steady voice. He paused an instant, and then went on:
"To-night the clergyman will be here. You will be ready? You will not retract your word?"
"I never retract my word," Mollie said, abruptly turning her back upon him. "I will not now. Go!"