If my niece marries you, she
marries an impostor, without name or lineage, disguised in the character
of a gentleman of rank and family."
"Bravo!" cried Bintrey. "Admirably put, Mr. Obenreizer! It only wants
one word more to complete it. She marries--thanks entirely to your
exertions--a man who inherits a handsome fortune, and a man whose origin
will make him prouder than ever of his peasant-wife. George Vendale, as
brother-executors, let us congratulate each other! Our dear dead
friend's last wish on earth is accomplished. We have found the lost
Walter Wilding. As Mr. Obenreizer said just now--you are the man!"
The words passed by Vendale unheeded. For the moment he was conscious of
but one sensation; he heard but one voice. Marguerite's hand was
clasping his. Marguerite's voice was whispering to him:
"I never loved you, George, as I love you now!"
THE CURTAIN FALLS
May-day. There is merry-making in Cripple Corner, the chimneys smoke,
the patriarchal dining-hall is hung with garlands, and Mrs. Goldstraw,
the respected housekeeper, is very busy. For, on this bright morning the
young master of Cripple Corner is married to its young mistress, far
away: to wit, in the little town of Brieg, in Switzerland, lying at the
foot of the Simplon Pass where she saved his life.
The bells ring gaily in the little town of Brieg, and flags are stretched
across the street, and rifle shots are heard, and sounding music from
brass instruments.
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