tVVLDER'S HA.VD. I77
need not look so pale; and put on that affected look of
honor. I may be wild, and — and what you please, but
I'm no worse than that brute, Mark Wylder, and you
never turned up your eyes when he was her choice; and
I knew things about him that ought to have damned him,
and she's well rid of a branded rascal. And now, Ra-
chel, you know her, and you must say a good word for
me. I expect your influence, and if you don't use it, and
effectually, it will be worse for you. So, listen to me,
this is a vital matter; indeed, it is, Radie. I have lost a
lot of money, like a — fool, I suppose; well, it is gone,
and this marriage is indispensable. I must go in for it, it is
life or death; and if I fail through your unkindness (here
he swore an impious oath), I'll end all with a pistol, and
leave a letter to Chelford, disclosing everything concern-
ing you, and me, and Mark Wylder.
I think Rachel Lake was as near fainting as ever lady
was, without actually swooning. It was well they had
stopped just by the stem of 'a great ash tree, against which
Rachel leaned for some seconds, with darkness before her
eyes, and the roar of a whirlpool in her ears.
After a while, with two or three gasps, she came to
herself. Lake had been railing on all this time, and his
voice, which, in ill-temper, was singularly bleak and ter-
rible, was again in her ears the moment she recovered her
hearing.
"I do not care to quarrel; there are many reasons why
we should not," Lake said in his peculiar tones. "You
have some of my secrets, and you must have more; it
can't be helped, and, I say, you must. I've been very
foolish. I'll give up play. I've paid away all I could,
and given bills for the rest; but I can't possibly pay
them, don't you see; and if things go to the worst, I tell
you I'll not stay. I don't want to make my bow just yet,
S*