here
one living being who would sustain the charge? You know that there is
nothing. Your vile slander would only recoil on your own head; and
even if I did nothing--even if I treated you and your charge with
silent contempt, you yourself would suffer, for the charge would
excite such suspicion against you that you would undoubtedly be
arrested.

"But, unfortunately for you, I would not be silent. I would come
forward and tell the magistrates the whole truth. And I think,
without self-conceit, there is enough in my appearance to win for me
belief against the wild and frenzied fancies of a vulgar valet like
you. Who would believe you when Lady Chetwynde came forward to tell
her story, and to testify against you?

"I will tell you what Lady Chetwynde would have to say. She would
tell how she once employed you in England; how you suffered some
slight from her; how you were dismissed from her service. That then
you went to London, and engaged yourself as valet to Lord Chetwynde,
by whom you were not known; that, out of vengeance, you determined to
ruin him. That Lady Chetwynde Was anxious about her husband, and,
hearing of his illness, followed him from place to place; that, owing
to her intense anxiety, she broke down and nearly died; that she
finally reached this place to find her villainous servant--the one
whom she had dismissed--acting as her husband's valet. That she
turned him off on the spot, whereupon he went to the authorities, and
lodged some malicious and insane charges against her. But Lady
Chetwynde would have more than this to say. She could show _certain
vials_, which are no doubt in these rooms, to a doctor; and he could
analyze their contents; and he could tell to the court what it was
that had caused this mysterious disease to one who had always before
been so healthy. And where do you think your charge would be in the
face of Lady Chetwynde's story; in the face of the evidence of the
vials and the doctor's analysis?"

Hilda paused and regarded Gualtier with cold contempt. Gualtier felt
the terrible truth of all that she had said. He saw that here in
Lausanne he had no chance. If he wished for vengeance he would have
to delay it. And yet he did not wish for any vengeance on her. She
had for the present eluded his grasp. In spite of his assertion of
power over her--in spite of the coercion by which he had once
extorted a promise from her--he was, after all, full of that same
all-absorbing love and idol