I sat
down at the machine, and he dictated a letter to himself, demanding
two thousand pounds to be paid to me, otherwise I should claim that I
was the wife of his son, secretly married. This, placing pen and ink
before me, he compelled me to sign, and when I had done so, pleading
to be allowed to see my husband, if only for a moment, I thought he
was going to strike me, for he shook his fist in my face, and used
words which were appalling to hear. That was the last I ever saw of
Lord Rantremly, my husband, the clergyman, or the butler. I was at
once sent off to London with my belongings, the butler himself buying
my ticket, and flinging a handful of sovereigns into my lap as the
train moved out.'
Here the woman stopped, buried her face in her hands, and began to
weep.
'Have you done nothing about this for the past ten years?'
She shook her head.
'What could I do?' she gasped. 'I had little money, and no friends.
Who would believe my story? Besides this, Lord Rantremly retained
possession of a letter, signed by myself, that would convict me of
attempted blackmail, while the butler would swear to anything against
me.'
'You have no marriage certificate, of course?'
'No.'
'What has become of the clergyman?'
'I do not know.
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