ld be able to go up-stairs and
say a word or two to his sweetheart, should he find her. "You ain't
just as you ought to be, Mr. Thwaite," said Mrs. Richards. He was
very haggard, and perspiration was on his brow, and she thought that
he had been drinking.

"I am well enough," said he rising,--"only that I am much troubled by
a hurt in my arm. At any rate I will go up-stairs." Then he mounted
slowly, leaving the two women standing in the passage.

Mrs. Richards gently opened the parlour door, and entered the room,
which was still reeking with smoke and the smell of the powder, and
there she found the Countess seated at the old desk, but with her
body and face turned round towards the door. "Is anything the matter,
my lady?" asked the woman.

"Where has he gone?"

"Mr. Thwaite has just stepped up-stairs,--this moment. He was very
queer like, my lady."

"Is he hurt?"

"We think he's been drinking, my lady," said Sarah.

"He says that his shoulder is ever so bad," said Mrs. Richards.

Then for the first time it occurred to the Countess that perhaps the
deed which she had done,--the attempt in which she had failed,--might
never be known. Instinctively she had hidden the pistol and had
locked the little door, and concealed the key within her bosom as
soon as she was alone. Then she thought that she would open the
window; but she had been afraid to move, and she had sat there
waiting while she heard the sound of voices in the passage. "Oh,--his
shoulder!" said she. "No,--he has not been drinking. He never drinks.
He has been very violent, but he never drinks. Well,--why do you
wait?"

"There is such a smell of something," said Mrs. Richards.

"Yes;--you had better open the windows. There was an accident. Thank
you;--that will do."

"And is he to be alone,--with Lady Anna, up-stairs?" asked the maid.

"He is to be alone with her. How can I help it? If she chooses to be
a scullion she must follow her bent. I have done all I could. Why do
you wait? I tell you that he is to be with her. Go away, and leave
me." Then they went and left her, wondering much, but guessing
nothing of the truth. She watched them till they had closed the door,
and then instantly opened the other window wide. It was now May, but
the weather was still cold. There had been rain the night before, and
it had been showery all the morning. She had come in from her walk
damp and chilled, and there was a fire in the grate. But she cared
nothing fo