“I am right glad to hear it,” said the Countess.  “Though I have seen so little of Gillian, I cannot help taking an interest in her; she is so pretty, and so innocent in appearance, and her manners are so artless and engaging.  I owe her some reparation for the mischief I have done her, and will not neglect to make it.  I am sorry I ever was induced by you to take her into my service; and I am thankful to hear she has escaped De Gondomar’s snares.”

“You are wonderfully interested about her, methinks, Frances; and I hope she will be grateful for your consideration,” rejoined Lord Roos, with a laugh.  “But I should not be surprised if De Gondomar still gained his point.  It is not his way to give up a pursuit he has once undertaken.  However, to leave the pretty damsel to her fate, which will depend entirely on her own conduct, let us return to ourselves.  We have good reason to be satisfied with the issue of this adventure of the lock of hair.  Nevertheless, that recurrence to the charge of witchcraft on the part of my vindictive mother-in-law shows the extent of her malice, and I cannot doubt that in threatening me with reprisals she will be as good as her word.  It behoves us, therefore, to be beforehand with her.  What she may intend I cannot say, but I am satisfied she has a formidable scheme on foot, and that nothing but her husband’s interposition prevented its disclosure when she was so violently incensed against me.”

“You fill me with terror, William,” exclaimed the Countess.  “Will this woman’s hostility towards me never cease?”

“Never,” replied Lord Roos, with a sudden change of manner, and laying aside the levity he had hitherto exhibited.  “There is but one way of ending the struggle.  Luke Hatton can help us to it.  Persuaded we should require him, I have brought him with me.  He waits in the hall below with Diego.  Shall I summon him to our conference?”

“On no account,” exclaimed Lady Exeter hastily; “I will not see him.  You have done wrong to bring that poisoner here, my lord.  You will destroy me.”

“Listen to me, Frances,” replied Lord Roos.  “The next step taken by Lady Lake will be fatal to us.  There must be no delay, no irresolution on our part, or all is lost.  I cannot depend upon myself, or I would not call in another’s aid.  You will comprehend how wanting in firmness I am, when I tell you what happened the other night.  Incredible as it may sound, my wife, in order to prove her devotion to me and to free me from further annoyance on her part, offered to take poison; and but for my interference (fool that I was to stay her!) would have drained the phial containing the deadly potion.  The weakness was momentary, and I reproached myself for it when too late.  But it convinced me that a firmer hand than mine must be employed in the task.”

“And can you, after what you have related, William,—­can you seriously meditate the destruction of a fond woman, who has generosity enough to lay down her life for you?  This is more incredible than the rest—­more monstrously wicked.”