Still silent, Lady Montbarry invited her by a wave of the hand to go on.  Henry approached, attentively watching his sister-in-law.  Agnes went on.

‘No trace of Ferrari has been discovered in England,’ she said.  ’Have you any news of him?  And will you tell me (if you have heard anything), in mercy to his wife?’

Lady Montbarry’s thin lips suddenly relaxed into their sad and cruel smile.

‘Why do you ask me about the lost courier?’ she said.  ’You will know what has become of him, Miss Lockwood, when the time is ripe for it.’

Agnes started.  ‘I don’t understand you,’ she said.  ’How shall I know?  Will some one tell me?’

‘Some one will tell you.’

Henry could keep silence no longer.  ’Perhaps, your ladyship may be the person?’ he interrupted with ironical politeness.

She answered him with contemptuous ease.  ’You may be right, Mr. Westwick.  One day or another, I may be the person who tells Miss Lockwood what has become of Ferrari, if—­’ She stopped; with her eyes fixed on Agnes.

‘If what?’ Henry asked.

‘If Miss Lockwood forces me to it.’

Agnes listened in astonishment.  ‘Force you to it?’ she repeated.  ’How can I do that?  Do you mean to say my will is stronger than yours?’

’Do you mean to say that the candle doesn’t burn the moth, when the moth flies into it?’ Lady Montbarry rejoined.  ’Have you ever heard of such a thing as the fascination of terror?  I am drawn to you by a fascination of terror.  I have no right to visit you, I have no wish to visit you:  you are my enemy.  For the first time in my life, against my own will, I submit to my enemy.  See!  I am waiting because you told me to wait—­and the fear of you (I swear it!) creeps through me while I stand here.  Oh, don’t let me excite your curiosity or your pity!  Follow the example of Mr. Westwick.  Be hard and brutal and unforgiving, like him.  Grant me my release.  Tell me to go.’

The frank and simple nature of Agnes could discover but one intelligible meaning in this strange outbreak.

‘You are mistaken in thinking me your enemy,’ she said.  ’The wrong you did me when you gave your hand to Lord Montbarry was not intentionally done.  I forgave you my sufferings in his lifetime.  I forgive you even more freely now that he has gone.’

Henry heard her with mingled emotions of admiration and distress.  ‘Say no more!’ he exclaimed.  ’You are too good to her; she is not worthy of it.’

The interruption passed unheeded by Lady Montbarry.  The simple words in which Agnes had replied seemed to have absorbed the whole attention of this strangely-changeable woman.  As she listened, her face settled slowly into an expression of hard and tearless sorrow.  There was a marked change in her voice when she spoke next.  It expressed that last worst resignation which has done with hope.