"I have," replied Luke Hatton, sullenly.
"Then thou hast avouched a lie—a lie that will damn thee," said Lady Exeter. "Lord Roos knows it to be false, and can exculpate me. Speak, my Lord, I charge you, and say how it occurred."
But the young nobleman remained silent.
"Not a word—not a word in my favour," the Countess exclaimed, in a voice of anguish. "Nay, then I am indeed lost!"
"You are lost past redemption," cried Lady Lake with an outburst of fierce exultation, and a look as if she would have trampled her beneath her feet. "You have forfeited honour, station, life. Guilty of disloyalty to your proud and noble husband, you have sought to remove by violent deaths those who stood between you and your lover. Happily your dreadful purpose has been defeated; but this avowal of your criminality with Lord Roos, signed by yourself and witnessed by his lordship and his Spanish servant,—this shall be laid within an hour before the Earl of Exeter."
"My brain turns round. I am bewildered with all these frightful accusations," exclaimed the Countess distractedly. "I have made no confession,—have signed none."
"Methought you said I had witnessed it, Madam?" cried Lord Roos, almost as much bewildered as Lady Exeter.
"Will you deny your own handwriting, my Lord?" rejoined Lady Lake; "or will the Countess? Behold the confession, subscribed by the one, and witnessed by the other."
"It is a forgery!" shrieked the Countess. "You have charged me with witchcraft; but you practise it yourself."
"If I did not know it to be false, I could have sworn the hand was yours, Countess," cried Lord Roos; "and my own signature is equally skilfully simulated."
"False or not," cried Lady Lake, "it shall be laid before Lord Exeter as I have said—with all the details—ay, and before the King."
"Before the King!" repeated Lord Roos, as he drew near Lady Exeter, and whispered in her ear—"Countess, our sole safety is in immediate flight. Circumstances are so strong against us, that we shall never be able to disprove this forgery."
"Then save yourself in the way you propose, my Lord," she rejoined, with scorn. "For me, I shall remain, and brave it out."
The young nobleman made a movement towards the door.
"You cannot go forth without my order, my Lord," cried Sir Thomas Lake.
"It is guarded."
"Perdition!" exclaimed Lord Roos.
Again Lady Lake looked from one to the other with a smile of triumph. But it was presently checked by a look from her daughter, who made a sign to her to approach her.
"What would you, my child?—more of the cordial?" demanded Lady Lake.
"No, mother," she replied, in a tone so low as to be inaudible to the others. "Nor will I suffer another drop to pass my lips unless my husband be allowed to depart without molestation."
"Would you interfere with my vengeance?" said Lady Lake.
"Ay, mother, I will interfere with it effectually unless you comply," rejoined Lady Roos, firmly. "I will acquaint the Countess with the true nature of that confession. As it is, she has awakened by her conduct some feelings of pity in my breast."
"You will ruin all by your weakness," said Lady Lake.
"Let Lord Roos go free, and let there be a truce between you and the Countess for three days, and I am content."
"I do not like to give such a promise," said Lady Lake. "It will be hard to keep it."
"It may be harder to lose all your vengeance," rejoined Lady Roos, in a tone that showed she would not be opposed.
Compelled to succumb, Lady Lake moved towards Sir Thomas, and a few words having passed between them in private, the Secretary of State thus addressed his noble son-in-law—
"My Lord," he said in a grave tone, "at the instance of my daughter, though much against my own inclination, and that of my wife, I will no longer oppose your departure. I understand you are about to travel, and I therefore recommend you to set forth without delay, for if you be found in London, or in England, after three days, during which time, at the desire also of our daughter—and equally against our own wishes—we consent to keep truce with my lady of Exeter; if, I say, you are found after that time, I will not answer for the consequences to yourself. Thus warned, my Lord, you are at liberty to depart."
"I will take advantage of your offer, Sir Thomas, and attend to your hint," replied Lord Roos. And turning upon his heel, he marched towards the door, whither he was accompanied by Sir Thomas Lake, who called to the attendants outside to let him go free.
"Not one word of farewell to me! not one look!" exclaimed his wife, sinking back upon the pillow.
"Nor for me—and I shall see him no more," murmured the Countess, compressing her beautiful lips. "But it is better thus."
While this was passing, Luke Hatton had contrived to approach the Countess, and now said in a low tone—"If your ladyship will trust to me, and make it worth my while, I will deliver you from the peril in which you are placed by this confession. Shall I come to Exeter House to-night?"
She consented.
"At what hour?"
"At midnight," she returned. "I loathe thee, yet have no alternative but to trust thee. Am I free to depart likewise?" she added aloud to Sir Thomas.
"The door is open for you, Countess," rejoined the Secretary of State, with mock ceremoniousness. "After three days, you understand, war is renewed between us."
"War to the death," subjoined Lady Lake.
"Be it so," replied the Countess. "I shall not desert my post."
And assuming the dignified deportment for which she was remarkable, she went forth with a slow and majestic step.
Luke Hatton would have followed her, but Sir Thomas detained him.
"Am I a prisoner?" he said, uneasily, and glancing at Lady Lake. "Her ladyship promised me instant liberation."
"And the promise shall be fulfilled as soon as I am satisfied my daughter is out of danger," returned Sir Thomas.
"I am easy, then," said the apothecary. "I will answer for her speedy recovery."
CHAPTER V
A visit to Sir Giles Mompesson's habitation near the fleet
Allowing an interval of three or four months to elapse between the events last recorded, and those about to be narrated, we shall now conduct the reader to a large, gloomy habitation near Fleet Bridge. At first view, this structure, with its stone walls, corner turrets, ponderous door, and barred windows, might be taken as part and parcel of the ancient prison existing in this locality. Such, however, was not the fact. The little river Fleet, whose muddy current was at that time open to view, flowed between the two buildings; and the grim and frowning mansion we propose to describe stood on the western bank, exactly opposite the gateway of the prison.
Now, as no one had a stronger interest in the Fleet Prison than the owner of that gloomy house, inasmuch as he had lodged more persons within it than any one ever did before him, it would almost seem that he had selected his abode for the purpose of watching over the safe custody of the numerous victims of his rapacity and tyranny. This was the general surmise; and, it must be owned, there was ample warranty for it in his conduct.
A loop-hole in the turret at the north-east angle of the house commanded the courts of the prison, and here Sir Giles Mompesson would frequently station himself to note what was going forward within the jail, and examine the looks and deportment of those kept by him in durance. Many a glance of hatred and defiance was thrown from these sombre courts at the narrow aperture at which he was known to place himself; but such regards only excited Sir Giles's derision: many an imploring gesture was made to him; but these entreaties for compassion were equally disregarded. Being a particular friend of the Warden of the Fleet, and the jailers obeying him as they would have done their principal, he entered the prison when he pleased, and visited any ward