Page:Randall Parrish - The Red Mist.djvu/128

 223  surged over me, and I was ready to kill. He knew his life hung by a hair.

"To—to marry her," the words barely audible.

"Marry her!" I echoed. "What in heaven's name do you mean, man—old Ned Cowan marry her?"

"No," he stammered, as though fearful he could not explain fast enough. "Not old Ned—his son, Anse."

I heard the startled exclamation of the girl behind me.

"Anse Cowan!" she cried, her voice full of undisguised horror. "Marry me to that low brute. Did he ever imagine I would consent, ever even look at him?"

I touched her with my hand in restraint, the revolver still at the preacher's heart. The whole foul plot lay exposed in my mind.

"There was no intention of asking your consent, Miss Harwood," I said, satisfied that she should know all, and face the truth. "There is a reason for this desperate act which I do not wholly fathom, but it has to do with the property here, and the feud between Cowan and your father. If Major Harwood be dead, as this man reports, you are the sole heir, and old Ned has conceived the idea of marrying you by force to his son. He has learned you are