The groom addressed hesitated a moment, then, under the stare of Sir
Oliver's hard, commanding eye, he shuffled sullenly forward to do as
he was bid. A murmur ran through the group. Sir Oliver flashed a glance
upon it, and every tongue trembled into silence.

In that silence he strode up the steps, and entered the rush-strewn
hall. As he vanished he heard the hubbub behind him break out anew,
fiercer than it had been before. But he nothing heeded it.

He found himself face to face with a servant, who shrank before him,
staring as those in the courtyard had stared. His heart sank. It was
plain that he came a little late already; that the tale had got there
ahead of him.

"Where is your mistress?" said he.

"I...I will tell her you are here, Sir Oliver," the man replied in a
voice that faltered; and he passed through a doorway on the right. Sir
Oliver stood a moment tapping his boots with his whip, his face pale, a
deep line between his brows. Then the man reappeared, closing the door
after him.

"Mistress Rosamund bids you depart, sir. She will not see you."

A moment Sir Oliver scanned the servant's face--or appeared to scan it,
for it is doubtful if he saw the fellow at all. Then for only answer
he strode forward towards the door from which the man had issued. The
servant set his back to it, his face resolute.

"Sir Oliver, my mistress will not see you."

"Out of my way!" he muttered in his angry, contemptuous fashion, and as
the man persistent in his duty stood his ground, Sir Oliver took him by
the breast of his jacket, heaved him aside and went in.

She was standing in mid-apartment, dressed by an odd irony all in bridal
white, that yet was not as white as was her face. Her eyes looked
like two black stains, solemn and haunting as they fastened up on this
intruder who would not be refused. Her lips parted, but she had no word
for him. She just stared in a horror that routed all his audacity and
checked the masterfulness of his advance. At last he spoke.

"I see that you have heard," said he, "the lie that runs the
countryside. That is evil enough. But I see that you have lent an ear to
it; and that is worse."

She continued to regard him with a cold look of loathing, this child
that but two days ago had lain against his heart gazing up at him in
trust and adoration.

"Rosamund!" he cried, and approached her by another step. "Rosamund! I
am here to tell you that it is a lie."

"You had best go," sh