“And her, the woman that—�
“Good God!� cried Nathan, a light breaking in upon him. “You don’t mean that Mrs. Lucien is—�
“My lost wife, Agnes! Yes.�
“Oh! my poor friend, forgive me. I never dreamed of such a thing. Believe me, Major, I am innocent of any such plot as this. Mrs. Lucien is an entire stranger to me. I only knew of her through Mrs. Wylie’s friendship for her, and she knows nothing of her past history. We have been blind instruments in the hands of Providence, Major. Why should it have happened?�
“God knows, or the Devil. I’d rather have seen Agnes in her coffin, Bartram. That villain Teasdale must be with her.�
“Impossible! Did he not tell you otherwise? Don’t, Major, lay that crime upon her in your excitement. Surely, surely she is blameless and good. Her face shows that.�
“Aye! Her face is the face of an angel. O Agnes, Agnes! Nathan, I’m beset by a thousand furies and fiends of torture. What shall I do? I want to see her and talk with her. I must, now, now—that I’ve seen her at all.�
Nathan was perplexed.
“You might call at her hotel and see her in the morning,� he ventured to suggest.
“No, I’ll see her to-night. I’ll be here at the door when this infernal business is over, and I will see and speak to her. I want to lift the weight from my conscience, if possible, and I will speak to her.�