Our pretty hostess, it would seem, had placed herself in an awkward predicament by her temerity.  Sir Giles was not a man to threaten idly, as all who had incurred his displeasure experienced to their cost.  His plan was to make himself feared; and he was inexorable, as fate itself, to a creditor.  He ever exacted the full penalty of his bond.  In this instance, according to his own notion, he had acted with great leniency; and certainly, judged by his customary mode of proceeding in such cases, he had shown some little indulgence.  In this line of conduct he had been mainly influenced by his partner, who, not being insensible to the attractions of the fair hostess, hoped to win her favour by a show of consideration.  But though Madame Bonaventure was willing enough, for her own purposes, to encourage Sir Francis Mitchell’s attentions (she detested him in her secret heart), she by no means relied upon him for security.  A more powerful friend was held in reserve, whom she meant to produce at the last moment; and, consequently, she was not so ill at ease as she otherwise would have been, though by no means free from misgiving.

Sir Giles Mompesson was a terrible enemy, and seldom thwarted in his purpose.  That she knew.  But no man was more keenly alive to his own interest than he; and she persuaded herself he would find it to his advantage not to molest her:  in which case she was safe.  Of Sir Francis Mitchell she had less apprehension; for, though equally mischievous and malevolent with his partner, he was far feebler of purpose, and for the most part governed by him.  Besides, she felt she had the amorous knight in her toils, and could easily manage him if he were alone.

So the case stood with respect to our pretty hostess; but, before proceeding further, it may be well to give a more complete description of the two birds of prey by whom she was threatened with beak and talon.

The master-spirit of the twain was undoubtedly Sir Giles Mompesson.  Quick in conception of villainy, he was equally daring in execution.  How he had risen to his present bad eminence no one precisely knew; because, with the craft and subtlety that distinguished him, he laid his schemes so deeply, and covered his proceedings with so thick a veil, that they had been rarely detected.  Report, however, spoke of him as a usurer of the vilest kind, who wrung exorbitant interest from needy borrowers,—­who advanced money to expectant heirs, with the intention of plundering them of their inheritance,—­and who resorted to every trick and malpractice permitted by the law to benefit himself at his neighbour’s expense.  These were bad enough, but even graver accusations were made against him.  It was whispered that he had obtained fraudulent possession of deeds and family papers, which had enabled him to wrest estates from their rightful owners; and some did not scruple to add to these charges that he had forged documents to carry out his nefarious designs.  Be this as