"You have a fearful reckoning to answer.
You will meet your match yet at the game of Life!" she cries.
But, Natalie de Santos is stunned by his devilish plot to rob the
despoiled orphan even of her name. He reads her face. "I will
give you a day to think this over. I will come to-morrow." Hardin's
voice rings with ill-concealed triumph.
"Not ten minutes will you give me. I tell you now I will crush you
in your hour of victory, if I die to do it. Once more, will you
marry me and give your child a name?" She rises and paces room, a
beautiful fury.
"You have your answer," he coldly replies.
"Then, may the plundered orphan's curse drag you down to the hell
you merit," is Natalie's last word as she walks swiftly out of the
door. She is gone.
He is alone. Somethings rings with dull foreboding in his ears as
his carriage rolls away. An orphan's curse! A cold clammy feeling
gnaws at his heart. An orphan's curse!
Ah! from the tomb of buried years the millionaire hears the voice
of Maxime Valois and shudders:
"May God deal with you as you deal with my child."
At home, in his library, where the silken rustling of that woman's
dress has thrilled him in bygone years, the old Judge drinks a
glass of cognac and slowly recovers his mental balance.
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