“Shawn, do you want money?”
“I thank you, Miss Riddle,” he replied, “I don't want money: all I want is, that you will not be desaved by one of the most damnable villains on the face of the earth.”
There was an earnestness and force of truth in what the generous young tory said that could not be mistaken. He arose, and was about to take his leave, when he said,—
“Miss Riddle, I understand he is about to be married to you to-morrow. Should he become your husband, he is safe from my hand—and that on your account; but as it may not yet be too late to spake, I warn you against his hypocrisy and villany—against the man who destroyed Grace Davoren—who would have killed Miss Goodwin with his Evil Eye, in order to get back the property which his uncle left her, and who would have poisoned his own brother out of his way bekase his mother told him she had changed her mind in leaving it to him (Woodward), and came to the resolution of leaving it to his brother, and that was the raison why he attempted to poison him. All these things have been proved, and I have raison to believe that he will sleep—if sleep he can—in Waterford jail before to-morrow mornin'. But,” he added, with a look which was so replete with vengeance and terror, that it perfectly stunned the girl, “perhaps he won't, though. It is likely that the fate of Grace Davoren will prevent him from it.”
He did not give her time to reply, but instantly disappeared, and left her in a state of mind which our readers may very well understand.
She immediately went to her uncle's library, where the following brief dialogue occurred:
“Uncle, this marriage must not and shall not take place.”
“What!” replied the peer; “then he is none of the twelve apostles.”
“You are there mistaken,” said she; “he is one of them. Remember Judas.”
“Judas! What the deuce are you at, my dear niece?”