"His child by this second marriage?—are you sure?" exclaimed the squire breathlessly.
"Yes; her name is Minnie Temple."
"Ha! I had never given a thought to the girl nor her possible age. But if what you say is true, I have lived to see him bitterly punished," and the man chuckled maliciously.
"Ah, yes, he must long have felt that a sword was hanging over his head," Clifford gravely observed. "Let me see; I met the family in the White Mountains during the vacation after my first year at college. Minnie was then five years old; more than five years have elapsed since then, so she must be between ten and eleven now, and my mother died ten years ago last August," he concluded, with a look of keen pain in his eyes.
"And that proves Mrs. Temple to be no wife and the child illegitimate. Bill Wilton was a fool ever to show his face this side of the Rockies again—it's a true saying, 'give a rogue rope enough and he'll hang himself.' We'll fix him now, though I never dared to hope for such a triumph as this," said the squire, with another chuckle that actually made Clifford's flesh creep.
"Oh, don't!" he exclaimed, with mingled disgust and distress.
"Don't!" repeated the man in a tone of astonishment. "Don't you want to see a rascal like that brought to justice? I do. His whole life has been one long story of selfish indulgence and crime."
"I am not thinking of him at all," said Clifford sorrowfully, "but of the innocent ones who have been so deeply wronged by him—that lovely woman and her sweet child——"
"How about yourself?" snapped the squire. "You have your rights."
"My dear mother was a legal wife. Assured of that, I am not disturbed about myself, as far as Mr. Temple is concerned. I have fought my way thus far, and I shall go still higher, without extorting anything from him."