The Highland monthly - National Library of Scotland

A Strange Revenge. 665
The words recalled Richard to his senses, and now he
listened in silence, his face ghastly and drawn, and his e\cs
fixed with mesmeric attraction on the face of the speaker.
" Your father loves you ; you are the apple of his eye ;
his heir and his hope ; he also loves Miss Flora, as you call
her. He will now learn what it is to love and lose, as I
did. Miss Flora is to die, and you, Richard Stuart, zvill he
her murderer /"
" And so the vague fear which has haunted me, is right
—you have made me a poisoner," said Richard, rising up
dreamily, pressing his throbbing temples.
" Unless the antidote is given within twenty-four hours,
she will die—result, as I promised : she will never love you
more ! You
see, sir,
my word."
I am a man of my word—a man of
" The antidote—the antidote ! save her ! save her ! or,
by heavens, I will murder you !" screamed Richard, as he
sprang across the room.
The Professor mo\-ed round the table, covering his victim
with the pistol.
" You may as well shout up the chimney for your
father, or the devil, to whom you also belong—the antidote,
I may remark, is not in my possession. I had only use for
the cause, not the cure. Steady now, or I will use this little
weapon of mine."
After making another furious effort to clutch the Pro-
fessor, Richard again subsided into a chair, gasping for
breath.
" Is there no hope of saving her ?" he asked piteously.
The Professor regarded him with a look of calm, cruel,
contempt, and then, with a gesture of impatience,
replied :
—
" You had better hurry home and enquire. You will, at
least, be in time for the funeral !"
At the words, Richard gathered himself together, slowly
rose, and ultimately stood upright, drawn to his full height,
the very picture of resolute despair.