What had
become of her; where was she now? He had no reason to believe her in any
great personal danger. If this gang, satisfied of success, were disposed
to spare his life, it was hardly probable they would demand her's. Now
both the desire for murder, and the necessity, had passed. The fellows
felt supremely confident the spoils were already theirs, and that all
that was needed now to assure complete success was sufficient time in
which to drop safely out of sight. Murder would hinder, rather than help
this escape.
But what a blind fool he had been; how strangely he had permitted this
girl to lead him so easily astray. Why really, to his mind now, she
possessed no real resemblance to Natalie; not enough, at least, to
deceive the keen eyes of love. She had the features, the eyes, the hair,
the voice, a certain trick of speech, which, no doubt, she had
cultivated--but there were a thousand things in which she differed. Her
laugh was not the same, nor the expression of her lips; she was like a
counterfeit beside a good coin. It was easy to conceive how others might
be deceived by her tricks of resemblance--servants, ordinary friends,
even the old lawyer in charge of the estate--but it was inexcusable for
him to have thus become a plaything. Yet he had, and now the mistake was
too late to mend. He had left Natalie alone on the cliff, and then
blindly permitted this chit to lead him straight into Hobart's set trap.
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