“What good ’ud it do you if I did?” inquired the captain. “She’d soon find out!”
“You come down to Sunset Bay,” said Pepper, emphasising his remarks with his forefinger; “you claim your wife; you allude carefully to the things set down in this book; I give Martha back to you and bless you both. Then”—
“Then what?” inquired Crippen anxiously.
“You disappear!” concluded Pepper triumphantly; “and, of course, believing her first husband is alive, she has to leave me. She’s a very particular woman; and, besides that, I’d take care to let the neighbours know. I’m happy, you’re happy, and, if she’s not happy, why, she don’t deserve to be.”
“I’ll think it over,” said Crippen, “and write and let you know.”
“Make up your mind now,” urged Pepper, reaching over and patting him encouragingly upon the shoulder. “If you promise to do it, the thing’s as good as done. Lord! I think I see you now, coming in at that door and surprising her. Talk about acting!”
“Is she what you’d call a good-looking woman?” inquired Crippen.
“Very handsome!” said Pepper, looking out of the window.
“I couldn’t do it!” said the captain. “It wouldn’t be right and fair to her.”
“I don’t see that!” said Pepper. “I never ought to have married her without being certain her first was dead. It ain’t right, Crippen; say what you like, it ain’t right!”