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Ashton, Warren T.

"Hatchie, the Guardian Slave; or, The Heiress of Bellevue"

Cat-like, he crept to the corner, and listened. He could hear
their conversation. Carefully he stole round to the corner nearest to
the door. For an instant the wife had left her station, to observe the
progress of her husband's labor. The time had come, and the attorney was
not the man to let the favorable moment pass unimproved. With a rapidity
which seemed utterly incompatible with his rotund corporation, he flew
to the door, and sprung the trap upon the hapless pair, in the midst of
their vision of wealth and happiness.
Carefully locking the doors of the dungeon, he walked back to the
mansion as coolly as though he had only impounded his neighbor's cow.
Entering the library, he found Jaspar impatiently waiting his return.
"Are they safe?" said he.
"As safe as your jail-walls can make them. Your plan was a clumsy one,
but I _forced_ it to succeed."
"Did they not enter without scruple?"
"Yes, but the sentinel."
"Pshaw! did you not know she would desert her post? If she saw not
danger, she would fear none in the day-time,--it is woman-like.


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