plotter, it was behind these that Sarah Swarton--the
intended witness of the imaginary scene--was concealed. The principal
subjects represented on the arras were the Judgment of Solomon, and the
Temptation of our first Parents in the Garden by the Serpent. The
hangings had evidently not been removed for years, and did not reach
within two feet of the ground--a circumstance that had escaped the
attention of Lady Lake--proving the truth of her husband's observation,
that in the best contrived plot some imperfection will exist certain to
operate in its detection.

To return to the unhappy Countess. So lost was she in reflection, that
she did not remark Lord Roos's return till made aware of it by a slight
touch on the shoulder. When she raised her eyes, they fell upon an
object that inspired her with the dread and aversion that a noxious
reptile might have produced. She had never seen Luke Hatton before; and
if she had figured him to her mind at all, it was not as anything
agreeable; but she was not prepared for so hideous and revolting a
personage as he appeared to be. His face was like an ugly mask, on which
a sardonic grin was stamped. His features were large and gaunt, and he
had the long, hooked nose, and the sharp-pointed bestial ears of a
satyr, with leering eyes--betokening at once sensuality and cunning. He
had the chin and beard of a goat, and crisply-curled hair of a pale
yellow colour. With all this, there was something sordid in his looks as
well as his attire, which showed that to his other vices he added that
of avarice. A mock humility, belied by the changeless sneer upon his
countenance, distinguished his deportment. It could be seen at once
that, however cringing he might be, he despised the person he addressed.
Moreover, in spite of all his efforts to control it, there was something
sarcastic in his speech. His doublet and hose, both of which had endured
some service, and were well-nigh threadbare, were tawny-coloured; and he
wore a short yellow cloak, a great ruff of the same colour, and carried
a brown steeple-crowned hat in his hand.

"I await your ladyship's commands," said Luke Hatton, bowing
obsequiously.

"I have none to give you," Lady Exeter rejoined with irrepressible
disgust. "I have not sent for you. Go hence."

Not at all abashed by this reception, Luke Hatton maintained his place,
and threw an inquiring glance at Lord Roos.

"My dear Countess," said the young nobleman, seating himself