“Do not be afraid of me—I will not betray you unless you disobey my orders. Listen: He is my lover, and she is trying to lure him from me. It is your task to keep them apart, and if they ever meet again, I will denounce you for this crime. You understand?”
“Yes, and will obey!” he returned, just as the other lady leaned across the seat, saying anxiously:
“What does he say about the young girl? Is she injured much?”
Carey Doyle answered quickly:
“Only a scratch on the temple and a fainting spell, madame. I’ll take her home fast as I can, and she will soon be all right,” and he leaped into the cart.
“I hope so,” she said kindly, and, as he drove away, she said to her companion:
“What an exquisitely lovely face the poor girl has! And what beautiful sunny hair, so fine and curly! I wonder who she is, Cora, and where Frank happened to make her acquaintance?”
“I’ll tell you all I know when we get home,” the young lady answered, frowning darkly at the memory of that morning’s rencontre at Madame Barto’s with lovely Jessie.
She thought viciously:
“That old witch lied to me—she knew he was there to see the girl, but she feared to own the truth to me. But I shall have an ally now in the man who carried her off this evening, and woe to him if he breaks faith with me!”