hether the gentleman was a fool or took her
to be one, that he asked her to give up what she had just told him was
the greatest treasure she had in the world,--her sure means of revenge
upon her enemies.

"You will not?" asked the gentleman.

"I will not."

"Then hear what you have to expect, madam. Hear it, and then take time
to consider once more."

"I have no time to spare," she replied. "I start for London early in
the morning; and my preparations are not complete."

"You must hear me, however," said the gentleman. "If you do not yield
your husband will immediately and irrevocably put you to open shame."

"He cannot," she replied. "I have no shame. I have the advantage of
him there."

"You have, however, personal liberty at present. You have that to
lose,--and life, madam. You have that to lose."

Lady Carse caught at the table, and leaned on it to support herself. It
was not from fear about her liberty or life; but because there was a
cruel tone in the utterance of the last words, which told her that it
was Lord Lovat who was threatening her; and she _was_ afraid of him.

"I have shaken you now," said he. "Come: give me the letter."

"It is not fear that shakes me," she replied. "It is disgust. The
disgust that some feel at reptiles I feel at you, my Lord Lovat."

She quickly turned and left the room. When he followed she had her foot
on the stairs. He said aloud, "You will repent, madam. You will
repent."

"That is my own affair."

"True, madam, most true. I charge you to remember that you have
yourself said that it is your own affair if you find you have cause to
repent."

Lady Carse stood on the stairs till her visitor had closed the house
door behind him, struggled up to her chamber, and fainted on the
threshold.

"This journey will never do, madam," said Bessie, as her mistress
revived.

"It is the very thing for me," protested the lady. "In twelve hours
more we shall have left this town and my enemies behind us; and then I
shall be happy."

Bessie sighed. Her mistress often talked of being happy; but nobody had
ever yet seen her so.

"This fainting is nothing," said Lady Carse, rising from the bed. "It
is only that my soul sickens when Lord Lovat comes near; and the visitor
below was Lord Lovat."

"Mercy on us!" exclaimed Bessie. "What next?"

"Why, that we must get this lock turned," said her lady, kneeling on the
lid of a trunk. "Now, try again. There it is!