Craven Le Noir's thin, white face grew perfectly livid with passion.

"I will have her yet! I have sworn it, and by fair means or by foul I

will have her yet!" he exclaimed, as he relaxed his hold upon his

bridle and let his horse go on slowly, while he sat with his brows

gathered over his thin nose, his long chin buried in his neckcloth and

his nails between his teeth, gnawing like a wild beast, as was his

custom when deeply cogitating.

Presently he conceived a plan so diabolical that none but Satan himself

could have inspired it! This was to take advantage of his acquaintance

and casual meetings with Capitola so to malign her character as to make

it unlikely that any honest man would risk his honor by taking her to

wife; that thus the way might be left clear for himself; and he

resolved, if possible, to effect this in such a manner--namely, by

jests, innuendos and sneers--that it should never be directly traced to

a positive assertion on his part. And in the mean time he determined to

so govern himself in his deportment toward Capitola as to arouse no

suspicion, give no offense and, if possible, win back her confidence.

It is true that even Craven Le Noir, base as he was, shrank from the

idea of smirching the reputation of the woman whom he wished to make a

wife; but then he said to himself that in that remote neighborhood the

scandal would be of little consequence to him, who, as soon as he

should be married, would claim the estate of the Hidden House in right

of his wife, put it in charge of an overseer and then, with his bride,

start for Paris, the paradise of the epicurean, where he designed to

fix their principal residence.

Craven Le Noir was so pleased with his plan that he immediately set

about putting it in execution. Our next chapter will show how he

succeeded.




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