There was another horrible pause.  Even Hugh Ingelow thrilled through every vein.

Then Carl Walraven found voice: 

“For God’s sake, Mollie, what does this mean?”

Mollie turned to him and held out both hands.

“It means, guardy, that but for the direct interposition of Providence you never would have seen your poor little Cricket again.”

And at last Dr. Oleander found his voice.

“That infernal nurse!” he cried between his set teeth.  Mollie heard the hissing words and turned upon him like a pale little fury.

“Yes, Guy Oleander, the nurse played you false—­fooled you to your face from the first.  Came down from New York for no other purpose than to rescue me.  And here I am, safe and sound, in spite of you; and the tables are turned, and you are in my power now.  Out of this house you never stir except to go to prison.”

“Mollie!  Mollie!  Mollie!” Mr. Carl Walraven cried in desperation, “for the Lord’s sake, what do you mean?  What has Doctor Oleander done?”

“Carried me off, I tell you—­forcibly abducted me.  Held me a prisoner for the last two weeks in a desolate old farmhouse over on Long Island.  Look at him.  Was ever guilt more plainly written on human face?  Let him deny it if he can—­or you, madame, his accomplice, either.”

“I do deny it,” Mme. Blanche exclaimed, boldly.  “Mollie Dane, you are mad.”

“You will find to your cost there is method in my madness, Mrs. Walraven.  What say you, Doctor Oleander?  Have you the hardihood to face me with a deliberate lie, too?”

Dr. Oleander was not deficient in a certain dog-like courage and daring.  He saw his position in a moment—­saw that denial would be utterly useless.  His own mother would prove against him it if came to law.

There was but one avenue of escape for him—­he saw it like a flash of light.  Mollie would not dare publish this story of hers for her own sake, and neither would Carl Walraven for his wife’s.

“He does not deny it!” cried Mollie.  “He dare not.  Look at his changing face.  He carried me off and held me a prisoner in his mother’s house, and gave out I was mad.  And that is not the worst he has done.  I might overlook that, now that I have safely escaped—­”

Dr. Oleander suddenly interrupted her.

“That is the very worst—­and you dare not publish it, even to punish me.”

“What!” exclaimed the young lady, “do you deny your other tenfold greater crime—­the compulsory marriage performed by the Reverend Raymond Rashleigh?  Oh, if there be law or justice in the whole country, you shall suffer for that!”

“I do deny it,” said the doctor, boldly.  “You are no wife of mine by compulsion or otherwise.  That story was trumped up to deceive you the second time.”

Mollie’s heart gave one great throb, and then seemed to stand still.

Mrs. Walraven turned, ghastly with fear and rage, upon her cousin.