By this time Kendale had recovered from his shock, and as he listened to
Faynie's recital, realized that she was not indeed a ghost, but the
heiress of the Fairfax millions, and his own wife at that. And when he
found his voice he cried out:
"The girl tells the truth! She is mine, and as her husband I am lord and
master of this house, and of her."
As he uttered the words he strode toward Faynie with a diabolical
chuckle, and seized her slender wrists in his grasp.
"Unhand me!" shrieked Faynie, struggling frantically in his grasp,
almost fainting with terror.
"No one dares interfere between man and wife," replied Kendale,
mockingly.
He did not see three dark forms spring over the threshold, thrusting the
servants hastily aside.
But in less time than it takes to tell it, a strong arm thrust him
aside, and a tall form sprang between him and Faynie, while a voice that
struck terror to his very soul cried out:
"You have come to the end of your rope, Clinton Kendale. You have lost
the game, while it was almost in your grasp!"
"Great Heaven, is it you, Lester Armstrong!" cried the guilty villain,
fairly quivering with terror.
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