“Then for Heaven’s sake tell me what it is, or I shall go mad,” groaned Robert.
“A young man has become very much enamored of a young lady, and wishes to marry her; but he says you imagine you have a prior claim upon her—some foolish childish ceremony or betrothal, and that if you were allowed to remain at liberty it would interrupt all his plans with reference to her. When they are united, then you are to have your freedom.”
“Tell me the name of this fiend in human form, whose brain but plans ruin for fellow-mortals. Tell me! I will know it!”
Robert sprang fiercely to his feet and confronted his captor with clenched hands. The veins upon his forehead were hard and knotted. Like a hero of the ancient times, every nerve trembled, every muscle was on the stretch; rage and contempt, hate and revenge were in all his features; and for a moment Weilman Weichel dropped his eyes in confusion.
“Tell me,” repeated Robert, huskily, “for by all the gods, the villain whoever he is, shall dearly pay for this!”
“I cannot, Herr Ellerton; and I beg you will calm yourself. This passion is of no earthly use,” the chief coldly replied.
“Heavens! what a conspiracy I am the victim of, and not to know who my enemies are! To be struck by a hidden foe is worse than all else; let them but come to open warfare, and equal combat, and I will battle to the death! Chief, I tell you, you are as vile as they, with your complicity in the affair.”
“Agreed, my friend,” returned the ruffian, smiling complacently, though not in the least ruffled at Robert’s ravings and revilings. “I do not profess to be at all saintly you know; but I do assure you that I am very fond of money, and so have made up my mind to see this thing through.”
“Money!” repeated Robert, bitterly. “Sell your soul for a few paltry dollars, and wreck the happiness of two loving, trusting hearts.”
After a few moments spent in troubled thought, while he paced to and fro, Robert suddenly halted and said: