"Yes. And, by the eternal, you've got to! Do you think I'm going to
ruin just because you couldn't stand a little rough treatment now and
then? Why, better women than you would be glad to come back to me.
I'll take you back!"
"Take me back! Oh, my God!"
"Cut out that hysterical stuff!" he ordered. "I'm desperate! I've got
to have money. I can raise it on a note if you'll sign it and put up
those bonds for security, and by--"
He caught her wrist in a grip that made her wince with pain as he swung
her around to face him.
"I've got to have your signature and the bonds!" he exclaimed in voice
tense with suppressed passion.
"The bonds!" she exclaimed. "You know what almost became of them. I
let you raise money on them once, and almost lost them. Now you dare
ask me for them again?"
"I do, and I'm going to enforce my demands! I've got to have money. I
darn't sell your diamonds--at least I don't want to. I'd rather you'd
have them," and he seemed to weaken as if with romance when it came to
this sentiment. "As for the bonds--"
"You'll never touch them!" she cried, bitterly. "Isn't it enough that
you have ruined my life? Now you must--"
"Oh, stop the theatrical business!" he sneered. "Pity you didn't go on
the stage. Now look here. This is your last chance. I'll give you
your diamonds if you'll sign this paper so I can get out of the tangle
I'm in. You've got to sign! It's your last chance. If you don't, by
all the--"
She tore herself away from him, and turned to flee, but he was too
quick for her, and was about to encircle her in his arms when she
shrank back and gave a despairing cry.
"Don't--don't touch me!"
This seemed to madden the man, for he sprang toward her, fury and
threat in every gesture.
"Aaron! Aaron! He's going to kill me!" screamed Cynthia.
Thought was not quicker than the leaping forward of Colonel Ashley.
Out from the shadows he sprang, to whirl back the man who, with blazing
eyes and murderous hate written on his face, confronted Cynthia
Ratchford.
"What--what's this?" snarled the man, struggling to retain his balance.
"What's this? Who the devil are you, to come between me and my--"
"Don't dare profane that name!" warned the woman. "I--I-- Oh,
Aaron! where are you?"
It was very dark now, under the trees.
"Ha! So _that's_ who he is! Your old lover, Grafton! Well, I'll soon
finish him! I'll make him wish he hadn't come between us with his
protecting ways, and his diamond cross that he goes so secretly to have
mended. Bah! A pretty lover! Take that, you sneaking fool!"
There was a sliver of flame in the darkness, and mingled with the
report came a cry of anguish and a woman's scream, as a heavy stick in
the hands of Colonel Ashley broke the hand that held the revolver.
A little thud among the bushes told where the weapon had fallen, its
bullet cutting the tree branches overhead.
"Oh--who--who are _you_?" gasped the woman, as the colonel stepped
between her and the man he had maimed. "I thought Mr. Grafton was--"
"I think that is he coming now," said the old detective quietly, as the
sound of some one running up the path was borne to their strained
senses.
"Look here!" snarled the man with the broken wrist, as he clasped it
with his other hand, "aren't you--" he started back as a last flicker
of the waning light fell across the colonel's face. "Who in the name
of all the devils in hades are you?" he cried. "What right have you--"
"The right of the law," was the quiet answer. The colonel's hand
slipped into his pocket, where something metallic clicked. "The right
of the law. Langford Larch, I arrest you for the murder of Mrs. Amelia
Darcy!"
It was so still for a moment that the rustle of a bird's wings in the
tree overhead sounded like the rushing of wind. Colonel Ashley,
drawing something from his pocket, took a step nearer the maimed man.
As he did so Larch laughed wildly.
"Ah, so that's the game, is it?" he cried. "You have betrayed me,
Cynthia, you she-devil! You put up this little game with your lover
Grafton, did you? Well you--"
"Langford, I never--!"
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