Craven Le Noir's thin, white face grew perfectly livid with passion.
"I will have her yet! I have sworn it, and by fair means or by foul I
will have her yet!" he exclaimed, as he relaxed his hold upon his
bridle and let his horse go on slowly, while he sat with his brows
gathered over his thin nose, his long chin buried in his neckcloth and
his nails between his teeth, gnawing like a wild beast, as was his
custom when deeply cogitating.
Presently he conceived a plan so diabolical that none but Satan himself
could have inspired it! This was to take advantage of his acquaintance
and casual meetings with Capitola so to malign her character as to make
it unlikely that any honest man would risk his honor by taking her to
wife; that thus the way might be left clear for himself; and he
resolved, if possible, to effect this in such a manner--namely, by
jests, innuendos and sneers--that it should never be directly traced to
a positive assertion on his part. And in the mean time he determined to
so govern himself in his deportment toward Capitola as to arouse no
suspicion, give no offense and, if possible, win back her confidence.
It is true that even Craven Le Noir, base as he was, shrank from the
idea of smirching the reputation of the woman whom he wished to make a
wife; but then he said to himself that in that remote neighborhood the
scandal would be of little consequence to him, who, as soon as he
should be married, would claim the estate of the Hidden House in right
of his wife, put it in charge of an overseer and then, with his bride,
start for Paris, the paradise of the epicurean, where he designed to
fix their principal residence.
Craven Le Noir was so pleased with his plan that he immediately set
about putting it in execution. Our next chapter will show how he
succeeded.