"
"What of young Wilders? Hugo Wilders, I mean--Lord Lydstone's
brother."
"His name is returned amongst the killed. It will be a blow for the
noble house of Essendine, and not the only one."
"What do you mean?"
"The other brother, young Anastasius, whom you are going to see,
cannot survive, I hear."
"Poor young fellows!" said Mrs. Wilders, with a well-assumed show of
feeling.
"You pity them? I honour your sentiments, madam; but, nevertheless,
they can be spared, especially by you."
"What do you mean?" she asked, quickly.
"I mean that after they are gone only one obstacle intervenes between
you and all the Essendine wealth. If Lord Lydstone were out of the
way, the title and its possession would come, perhaps, to your
husband, certainly to your son."
"Silence! Do not put thoughts into my head. You must be the very
fiend, I think."
"I know you, Cyprienne, and every move of your mind. We are such old
friends, you see," he said, with a sneering, cynical smile. "And now,
as before, I offer you my help."
"Devil! Do not tempt me!"
He laughed--a cold, cruel, truculent laugh.
"I know you, I repeat, and am ready to serve you as before. Come, or
send, if you want me. I am living here in this hotel; Mr. Hobson they
call me--Mr. Joseph Hobson, of London. My number is 73.
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