d be against my oath,' replied I; 'recollect the vow
Eugenio sent to Calista.'

'If you do not quit me, I will call for the domestics to turn you from
the door.'

'What! when I am come with my Calista's letters in my pocket, to return
them mayhap? You can soothe, madam, but you cannot frighten Redmond
Barry.'

'What is it you would have of me, sir?' said the widow, rather agitated.

'Let me come upstairs, and I will tell you all,' I replied; and she
condescended to give me her hand, and to permit me to lead her from her
chair to her drawing-room.

When we were alone I opened my mind honourably to her.

'Dearest madam,' said I, 'do not let your cruelty drive a desperate
slave to fatal measures. I adore you. In former days you allowed me to
whisper my passion to you unrestrained; at present you drive me from
your door, leave my letters unanswered, and prefer another to me. My
flesh and blood cannot bear such treatment. Look upon the punishment I
have been obliged to inflict; tremble at that which I may be compelled
to administer to that unfortunate young man: so sure as he marries you,
madam, he dies.'

'I do not recognise,' said the widow, 'the least right you have to give
the law to the Countess of Lyndon: I do not in the least understand
your threats, or heed them. What has passed between me and an Irish
adventurer that should authorise this impertinent intrusion?'

'THESE have passed, madam,' said I,--'Calista's letters to Eugenio. They
may have been very innocent; but will the world believe it? You may have
only intended to play with the heart of the poor artless Irish gentleman
who adored and confided in you. But who will believe the stories of your
innocence, against the irrefragable testimony of your own handwriting?
Who will believe that you could write these letters in the mere
wantonness of coquetry, and not under the influence of affection?'

'Villain!' cried my Lady Lyndon, 'could you dare to construe out of
those idle letters of mine any other meaning than that which they really
bear?'

'I will construe anything out of them,' said I; 'such is the passion
which animates me towards you. I have sworn it--you must and shall be
mine! Did you ever know me promise to accomplish a thing and fail? Which
will you prefer to have from me--a love such as woman never knew from
man before, or a hatred to which there exists no parallel?'

'A woman of my rank, sir, can fear nothing from the hatred of an
adventu