r
laughter in the upper rooms. He was in the ball-dress in which he had
been captured the night before. He went silently up the stairs,
leaning against the banisters at the stair-head. Nobody was stirring
in the house besides--all the servants had been sent away. Rawdon heard
laughter within--laughter and singing. Becky was singing a snatch of
the song of the night before; a hoarse voice shouted "Brava!
Brava!"--it was Lord Steyne's.

Rawdon opened the door and went in. A little table with a dinner was
laid out--and wine and plate. Steyne was hanging over the sofa on
which Becky sat. The wretched woman was in a brilliant full toilette,
her arms and all her fingers sparkling with bracelets and rings, and
the brilliants on her breast which Steyne had given her. He had her
hand in his, and was bowing over it to kiss it, when Becky started up
with a faint scream as she caught sight of Rawdon's white face. At the
next instant she tried a smile, a horrid smile, as if to welcome her
husband; and Steyne rose up, grinding his teeth, pale, and with fury in
his looks.

He, too, attempted a laugh--and came forward holding out his hand.
"What, come back! How d'ye do, Crawley?" he said, the nerves of his
mouth twitching as he tried to grin at the intruder.

There was that in Rawdon's face which caused Becky to fling herself
before him. "I am innocent, Rawdon," she said; "before God, I am
innocent." She clung hold of his coat, of his hands; her own were all
covered with serpents, and rings, and baubles. "I am innocent. Say I
am innocent," she said to Lord Steyne.

He thought a trap had been laid for him, and was as furious with the
wife as with the husband. "You innocent! Damn you," he screamed out.
"You innocent! Why every trinket you have on your body is paid for by
me. I have given you thousands of pounds, which this fellow has spent
and for which he has sold you. Innocent, by ----! You're as innocent as
your mother, the ballet-girl, and your husband the bully. Don't think
to frighten me as you have done others. Make way, sir, and let me
pass"; and Lord Steyne seized up his hat, and, with flame in his eyes,
and looking his enemy fiercely in the face, marched upon him, never for
a moment doubting that the other would give way.

But Rawdon Crawley springing out, seized him by the neckcloth, until
Steyne, almost strangled, writhed and bent under his arm. "You lie,
you dog!" said Rawdon. "You lie, you coward and v