“Oh!” returned Martha, “he has been here often, Henry, and what I now fear is, that my uncle is leagued with him, not only in the most frightfully dishonest practices, but in the abduction, at the instance of some other villain, of a good and pure young creature who, a few nights ago, was brought here by them under the pretense that it was the wish of her lover that she should accompany them where this wretch would—a pretense that disguised itself under a veritable token procured in some way from her betrothed, and evidently used without his sanction or knowledge.”
“I believe your uncle to be a bad man, Martha,” returned Evans, “but the fault is not yours; and besides, there is not a single drop of his blood in your veins. I am convinced, also, that your aunt knows it, and that it is that which so wastes her away and destroys the whole sunshine of her life. I have long felt it; and were it not for the dread of paining you through exposure, I should ere this have directed the attention of the authorities to some circumstances affecting his character and honesty, that came under my own notice; for, Martha, dear, but a few hours since, as I may say, I was an accidental witness of an incident which more than confirms all the suspicions that have so long rested on him.”
“I know! I know?” interrupted Martha, while she hid her face in her hands and wept in bitter agony, “but go on!”
“When,” resumed Evans, “two or three nights ago, believing Wilson to be from home—for I shall no longer call him your uncle, he being, in truth, no relation whatever of yours,—I stole up from our place to say a few words to you and urge you to quit this house and become my wife. I was astonished to see a light in the stable as I crept by it; and looking into one of the windows. I perceived this man leaning over a large case filled with valuables that had evidently been stolen by him, or by some of his accomplices, who had entrusted them to his safe keeping until the noise of the robbery had blown over. I saw this, I saw with my own eyes; and now that you are aware of it, can you longer remain beneath this roof?”
“It is true! alas! too true,” sobbed Martha, “for I myself saw the very same case; and then it was, that for the first time, a full sense of his horrible vocation fell upon me and the poor woman that he calls his wife. Of course, Henry, I shall quit this place, and forever; but until this horrible din is over, and the poor creature up stairs placed in some safe hands, I shall bear my terrible lot as best I can.”
“Rightly spoken, dear Martha,” returned Henry, kissing off her tears, “and I trust that this lady of whom you speak, will prove herself worthy your kindness and esteem.”
“No fear of that, dear Henry,” returned the maiden, “my heart tells me that she is as good as she is beautiful, and I know, not only from her own lips, but from what has transpired this very night, that she is the victim of some foul plot yet to be punished and explained.”
“And where has she come from, and what is her name?” rejoined Henry, evidently becoming interested in the fate of our heroine.
“Her home is in Buffalo,” replied Martha, “and her name is Kate M’Carthy.”
“By heaven!” exclaimed Evans, leaping to his feet as if the house were falling, “where is she? where is she? Lead me to her at once!”