is wife. He could not
avail himself of _my_ stratagem. I said so too, and he answered, "Ay,
but I can divorce her if one half of that be true;" and he pointed to
the letter. "The Lady Glencore," said he, "must know everything, and
be willing to tell it too. She has paid the heaviest penalty ever woman
paid for another. Read that." And I read it,--ay, I read it four times,
five times over; and then my brain began to burn, and a thousand fancies
flitted across me, and though he talked on, I heard not a word.

"'"But that lady is my wife, sir," broke I in; "and what a part do you
assign her! She is to be a spy, a witness, perhaps, in some infamous
cause. How shall I, a peer of the realm, endure to see my name thus
degraded? Is it Court favor can recompense me for lost or tarnished
honor?" "But it will be her own vindication," said he. Her own
vindication,--these were the words, George; _she_ should be clear of
all reproach. By Heaven, he said so, that I might declare it before the
world. And then it should be proved!--be proved! How base a man can be,
even though he wear a crown! Just fancy his proposition! But I spurned
it, and said, "You must seek for some one with a longer chance of life,
sir, to do this; my days are too brief for such dishonor;" and he was
angry with me, and said I had forgotten the presence in which I stood.
It was true, I had forgotten it.

"'He called me a wretched fool, too, as I tore up that letter. That was
wrong in me, Harcourt, was it not? I did not see him go, but I found
myself alone in the room, and I was picking up the fragments of the
letter as they entered. They were less than courteous to me, though
I told them who I was,--an ancient barony better than half the modern
marquisates. I gave them date and place for a creation that smacked of
other services than theirs. Knighton would come with me, but I shook him
off. Your Court physician can carry his complaisance even to poison. By
George! it is their chief office, and I know well what snares are now in
store for me.'

"And thence he went on to say that he would hasten back to his Irish
solitude, where none could trace him out. That there his life, at least,
would be secure, and no emissaries of the King dare follow him. It was
in vain I tried to induce him to return, even for one night, to the
hotel; and I saw that to persist in my endeavors would be to hazard the
little influence I still possessed over him. I could not, however, leave