Good-night, my beautiful Mollie, and happy dreams." He bowed politely and moved toward the door.

Mollie made a step toward him, with upraised arm: "Stay!" The man halted at once.
"How long am I to be imprisoned here ?" "My fair one, I told you before: until you consent to become my wife." "Are you mad ?" exclaimed Mollie, scornfully; "or do you think I am?
Your wife! I am here in your power--kill me, if you dare, you cowardly abductor! I will die ten thousand deaths--I'll live on here until my head is hoary--I'll dash my brains out against yonder wall, but I'll never, never, never become your wife!" The man shrugged his shoulders.
"Strong language, my dear; but words, words, words! I won't kill you, and you won't live here until your head is hoary.

Golden locks like yours are a long time turning gray.

And you won't dash your brains out against the walls, because the walls are padded.

Is there anything else you wish to say, Miss Dane ?" "Only this," with blazing eyes, "that whoever you are, you are the vilest, basest, most cowardly wretch on the wide earth! Go! I would murder you if I was able!" "Not a doubt of it, my angel! Once more, good-night!" He bowed low, passed out, and locked the door.