ause she had been indiscreet. He
would marry her still. But before he did so he would let her know how
thoroughly she was in his power, and how much she would owe to him
if he now took her to his bosom. The point on which he could not at
once quite make up his mind was this: Should he tell Madame Staubach
first, or should he endeavour to use the power over Linda, which his
knowledge gave him, by threats to her? Might he not say to her with
much strength, "Give way to me at once, or I will reveal to your aunt
this story of your vileness"? This no doubt would be the best course,
could he trust in its success. But, should it not succeed, he would
then have injured his position. He was afraid that Linda would be too
high-spirited, too obstinate, and he resolved that his safest course
would be to tell everything at once to Madame Staubach.

As he passed between the back of Jacob Heisse's house and the river
he saw the upholsterer's ruddy face looking out from an open window
belonging to his workshop. "Good evening, Peter," said Jacob Heisse.
"I hope the ladies are well."

"Pretty well, I thank you," said Peter, as he was hurrying by.

"Tell Linda that we take it amiss that she did not come to our girl's
wedding. The truth is, Peter, you keep her too much moped up there
among you. You should remember, Peter, that too much work makes Jack
a dull boy. Linda will give you all the slip some day, if she be kept
so tight in hand."

Peter muttered something as he passed on to the red house. Linda
would give them the slip, would she? It was not improbable, he
thought, that she should try to do so, but he would keep such a watch
on her that it should be very difficult, and the widow should watch
as closely as he would do. Give them the slip! Yes; that might be
possible, and therefore he would lose no time.

When he entered the house he walked at once up to Madame Staubach's
parlour, and entered it without any of that ceremony of knocking that
was usual to him. It was not that he intended to put all ceremony
aside, but that in his eager haste he forgot his usual precaution.
When he entered the room Linda was there with her aunt, and he had
again to turn the whole subject over in his thoughts. Should he tell
his tale in Linda's presence or behind her back? It gradually became
apparent to him that he could not possibly tell it before her face;
but he did not arrive at this conclusion without delay, and the
minutes which were so occ