,
and you are insulting and defying one who can at any moment have you
thrust from the place. I, if I chose, could now, at this instant,
have you arrested, and in this very room."

"You!" said Hilda, with a sneer.

"Yes, I," said Gualtier, emphatically. "I have but to lodge my
information with the authorities against you, and before ten minutes
you would be carried away from this place, and separated from that
man forever. Yes, Hilda Krieff, I can do that, and you know it; and
yet you dare to taunt me and insult me, and drive me on to do things
of which I might afterward repent. God knows I do not wish to do any
thing but what is in accordance with your will. At this moment I
would still obey any of your commands but this one; yet you try me
more than mortal nature can endure, and I warn you that I will not
bear it."

Hilda laughed.

Since this interview had commenced, instead of growing weaker, she
had seemed rather to grow stronger. It was as though the excitement
had been a stimulus, and had roused her to a new life. It had torn
her thoughts suddenly and violently away from the things over which
she had long brooded. Pride had been stirred up, and had repaired the
ravages of love. At this last threat of Gualtier's she laughed.

"Poor creature!" she said. "And do you really think you can do any
thing here? Your only place where you have any chance is in England,
and then only by long and careful preparation. What could you do here
in Lausanne?"

"I could have you flung in prison, and separated from him forever,"
said Gualtier, fiercely.

"You! you! And pray do you know who you are? Lord Chetwynde's valet!
And who would take your word against Lord Chetwynde's wife?"

"That you are not."

"I am," said Hilda, firmly.

"My God! what do you mean?"

"I mean that I will stand up for my rights, and crush you into dust
if you dare to enter into any frantic attempt against me here. You!
why, what are you? You are Lord Chetwynde's scoundrel valet, who
plotted against his master. Here in these rooms are the witnesses and
the proofs of your crimes. You would bring an accusation against me,
would you? You would inform the magistrates, perhaps, that I am not
Lady Chetwynde--that I am an impostor--that my true name is Hilda
Krieff--that I sent you on an errand to destroy your master? And pray
have you thought how you could prove so wild and so improbable a
fiction? Is there one thing that you could bring forward? Is t