Can you doubt, therefore, that he wishes your
death?"
"I cannot believe it!" cried Lionel Dale; "it is too horrible. What!
he, my first cousin! he can profess for me the warmest friendship, and
yet can wish to profit by my death!"
"He can do worse than that," said the gipsy woman, in an impressive
voice; "he can try to compass your death!"
"No! no! no!" cried the rector. "It is not possible!"
"It is true. Sir Reginald Eversleigh is a coward; but he is helped by
one who knows no human weakness--whose cruel heart was never softened
by one touch of pity--whose iron hand never falters. Sir Reginald
Eversleigh is little more than the tool of that man, and between those
two there is ruin for you."
"Your words have the accent of truth," said the rector, after a long
pause; "and yet their meaning is so terrible that I can scarcely bring
myself to believe in them. How is it that you, a stranger, are so
familiar with the private details of my life?"
"Do not ask me that, Mr. Dale," replied the gipsy woman, sternly; "when
a stranger comes to you to warn you of a great danger, accept the
warning, and let your nameless friend depart unquestioned. I have told
you that an unseen danger menaces you. I know not yet the exact form
which that danger may take. To-morrow I expect to know more."
"I can pledge myself to nothing."
"As you will," answered the gipsy, proudly.
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