rejoined.

"Well, then, 'yes!' if I must say something," she replied.

Poor Dick fell back, as if struck by a shot.

"I don't believe it," cried Sir Thomas.

"Nor I either," said Dick, recovering himself. "I don't believe she
could do such a wicked thing. Besides, it was the foreign ambassador,
there," he added, pointing to De Gondomar, "who seemed most enamoured
of her yesterday; and I shouldn't have been so much surprised if she had
gone to see him. Perhaps she did," he continued, addressing the poor
damsel, who again hung her head.

"I can take upon me to affirm that such was not the case," observed De
Gondomar.

"Have you the lock of hair with you?" whispered Sir Thomas to his lady.

"I have," she replied, taking a small packet from her bosom.

The movement did not pass unnoticed by Lord Roos and the Spanish
Ambassador, between whom an almost imperceptible smile passed.

"If you have put all the interrogations you desire to make to Gillian,
Madam," said Lord Roos to his mother-in-law, "perhaps she may be
permitted to depart? The situation cannot be agreeable to her."

"A moment more, my lord," cried Lady Lake. "If I detain her it is to
clear her character. I know her to be perfectly innocent."

At this announcement, Dick Taverner's countenance brightened, and he
extended his arms towards Gillian, who gladly availed herself of his
support.

"I am quite sure she was not the person I surprised in your chamber last
night," continued Lady Lake.

"Indeed, Madam! How do you arrive at that conviction?"

"Because that person's hair was jet black, whereas Gillian's, as we
see, is of the exactly opposite colour."

Dick Taverner could not help pressing his lips against the back of the
pretty damsel's neck as this was uttered.

"Your proof of this, Madam?" demanded Lord Roos.

"Behold it!" she cried. "This look of hair was cut off before your
visitant escaped, and has remained in my possession ever since. Ha! how
is this?" she exclaimed, as she unfolded the packet, and disclosed a
tress of fair hair, evidently matching Gillian's lint-white locks. "What
transformation has taken place! Witchcraft has been practised. This is
the Countess's work."

"The minion must have been there, after all," cried Dick Taverner,
thrusting Gillian from him.

"The charge of witchcraft will not serve your turn, Madam," said Lord
Roos derisively. "The explanation is simple. Your eyes have deceived
you."

"Most palpably," cri