hough I myself have received a mortal affront from your wife's
mother, Lady Lake; though she has poured forth all the malice of which
she is capable upon my devoted head; yet I would rather forgive
her--rather sue for pity from her than go the fearful length you
propose. No, William. The pang of parting from you will indeed be
terrible, but it must be endured. Fate wills it so, and it is therefore
useless to struggle against it."

"O, recall those words, Frances!" cried the young nobleman, throwing
himself at her feet, and clasping her hands passionately. "Recall them,
I implore' of you. In uttering them you pronounce my doom--a doom more
dreadful than death, which would be light in comparison with losing you.
Plunge this sword to my heart," he exclaimed, plucking the shining
weapon from his side, and presenting it to her. "Free me from my misery
at once, but do not condemn me to lingering agony."

"Rise, William! rise, I pray of you," ejaculated the Countess, overcome
by the intensity of his emotion, "and put up your sword. The love you
display for me deserves an adequate return, and it shall meet it. Come
what will, I will not leave you. But, O! let us not plunge deeper in
guilt if it can be avoided."

"But how _can_ it be avoided?" cried Lord Roos. "Will _they_ listen to
our prayers? Will _they_ pity us? Will _they_ hesitate at our
destruction?"

"I know not--I know not," replied the Countess, bewildered; "but I stand
appalled before the magnitude of the offence."

"They will _not_ spare us," pursued Lord Roos; "and therefore we cannot
spare them."

"In my turn I bend to you, William," said the Countess, sinking on her
knee before him, and taking his hand. "By the love you bear me, I
beseech you not to harm your wife! We have wronged her deeply--let us
not have her death to answer for. If the blow _must_ fall, let it be
upon the mother's head. I have less compassion for her."

"Lady Lake deserves no compassion," replied Lord Roos, raising the
Countess, and embracing her tenderly, "for she is the cause of all this
mischief. It is to her agency we owe the storm which threatens us with
ruin. But things have gone too far now to show compunction for either of
them. Our security demands that both should be removed."

"I may now say as you have just said, William, and with, far greater
reason," cried the Countess, "that you love me not, or you would not
refuse my request."

"How can I comply with it?" he rejoined