"A thousand pardons!" he said. "You think my actions strange. But—shall I?—" a wild flash in his eyes. "Yes, Mr. Hope, you shall have the story. I must tell it to some one. It's too good to keep. Ha, ha!"
"Take a seat," he continued, pushing a cask towards me, upon which I dropped, not certain that I was not in the presence of a madman.
Taking up a bottle, he brushed the cobwebs from it, then, breaking off the neck, passed it to me, saying:
"Take a pull. It's damp in this cellar, and this will take the chill out of your blood. This is an excellent wine—it was a favorite brand with Judson Pickford. Yes, sir; and Judson was a competent judge. Ha, ha!"
His laugh made me shiver. It sounded like the exultation of a fiend. But I declined the wine, and Parton himself drained the bottle.
"You've never heard of Judson Pickford?" he asked.
"No."
"Of course not. That was before you came, and it isn't likely that excellent Messrs. Dillard & Hatch would mention him to you. But they could tell you a great deal about Judson if they were so disposed."
"Judson Pickford was a strange, dark man. I met him first in society in Baltimore. And, strange to say, many declared that there was a strong resemblance between Pickford and Parton. Be that as it may, fate decreed that we should both love the same girl,—beautiful, winsome Mabel Raymond. I loved her from the hour we first met, and I've no doubt my rival's passion was as intense as my own. I was a rich wine merchant, and Pickford a wealthy, brilliant stock-broker. Both of us vowed to win Miss Raymond, but from the first I saw that she favored Pickford's suit. This made me hate my rival with deepest hatred. After they were married I went about for months like one stupefied. In losing the only woman I loved I lost all interest in life. I drank heavily, but the more I drank the more I felt myself urged on to revenge. Then I began to lay plans for Pickford's ruin.
"When he and his wife were in Europe I saw an excellent chance to mature my scheme for his destruction. I first converted all my property into cash. Then I came to this secluded place and had this house built, where I might live apart from the world I hated. Afterward I went to Dillard & Hatch, and placed five hundred thousand dollars in their bank. I knew Dillard to be a noted schemer, so I took him into my confidence, and got his promise to help me. Hatch, being a weak man, was not hard to rope into the plot. No need for me to go into details of the steps by which Dillard and I artfully spread a net for our unsuspecting victim. It is enough to say that soon after Pickford's return from abroad he was a ruined man. Penniless though he was, he didn't lose heart. He moved into plainer quarters and took up the practise of law, a profession which he had followed before he became a stock-broker. But my vengeance was not yet satisfied. Mind you, though, I took pains never to let him suspect I was even most remotely connected with the cause of his ruin.