Power is his for aye.
But to be logically correct, to be wise and safe in secret moves.
Time to think? Yes. Can he trust Hortense Duval? Partly. He needs
that devilish woman's wit of hers. Will he tell her all? No.
Professional prudence rules. A dark scheme has formulated itself
in his brain, bounding under the blow of the brandy.
He will get Hortense out of the State, under the pretext of
sending the colonel's child to Paris. The orphan's education must
be brilliant.
He will have no one know of the existence of Valois' mine. If
"Kaintuck" were only gone. Yes! Yes! the secret of the mines. If
the priest were only in France and locked up in his cloister. The
long minority of the child gives time to reap the golden harvest.
A sudden thought: the child may not live! His teeth chatter. As he
paces the room, Hortense enters. She sees on his face the shadow
of important things.
"What has happened, Philip?" she eagerly asks.
"Sit down, Hortense. Listen to me," says Hardin, as he sees the
doors all secure.
Her heart beats fast. Is this the end of all? She has feared it
daily.
"How would you like to live in Paris?" he ejaculates.
He watches her keenly, pacing to and fro. A wild hope leaps up.
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