The man by her side noted it, and burst into a derisive laugh.
"You are not Hugh Ingelow!" Mollie cried in a voice of sharp, sudden pain--"you are not!" "And you are sorry, pretty Mollie?
Why, that's odd, too! He was a rejected lover, was he not ?" "Let me out!" exclaimed the girl, frantically--"let me go! I thought you were Hugh Ingelow, or I never would have come! Let me out! Let me out!" She made a rush at the door, with a shrill cry of affright.

A sudden panic had seized her--a horrible dread of the man beside her--a stunning sense that it was not the man she loved.
Again that strident laugh--mocking, sardonic, triumphant--rang through the carriage.

Her arms were caught and held as in a vise.
"Not so fast, my fair one; there is no escape: I can't live without you, and I see no reason why a man should live without his wife.

You appointed this meeting yourself, and I'm excessively obliged to you.

I am taking you to the sea-side to spend the honey-moon.