"Let him prove her so, if he can," cried the wretch, maliciously.
"I can do so. Here is the certificate of my marriage to Golden Glenalvan in New York sixteen years ago, replied Richard Leith, unfolding a yellowed paper and holding it open before the eyes of the father and son.
"Then she was really your wife," John said, with unwilling belief.
"Of course she was my wife. How dared you think evil of your own sister?" demanded the lawyer, scornfully.
"I do not answer to you for my thoughts, sir," replied John Glenalvan, angrily.
"But you must answer to me for the deed which has deprived me of my wife and child for fifteen years," cried Richard Leith. "John Glenalvan, where is my wife?"
"How should I know?" he retorted.
"It is too late to fence with me," answered Richard Leith. "You, and you alone, are at the bottom of my wife's mysterious disappearance. You have either shut her up in solitary confinement, or you have murdered her!"
"Murdered her! How dare you hint at such a thing?" John Glenalvan thundered, growing white with fear.
"I dare do more," cried the lawyer, driven to desperation. "If you do not tell me what has become of my wife I will have you arrested for her murder."