“‘These facts,’ continued Nighthawk, ‘came out in a sort of quarrel which madam had with the man. He reproached her with intending to desert him--with loving you--and said he had not rescued her from misery to be thus treated. She laughed, and replied that she was only following a suggestion of his own. They were poor, they must live; he had himself said that they must procure money either honestly or dishonestly; and he had fully approved of the plan she had now undertaken. _You_, sir--she added--were an “empty-headed fool,”--the idea of her “loving” you was absurd!--but you were wealthy; immensely wealthy; had made a will leaving her your entire property;--_if you died suddenly on your wedding night_, she and himself would possess Fonthill, and live in affluence.’ “‘Go on,’ I said. “‘At these words,’ continued Nighthawk, ‘I could see the man turn pale. He had not intended _that_, he said. His scheme had been, that madam should induce you to bestow upon her a splendid trousseau in the shape of jewels and money, with which they would elope. The marriage was only a farce, he added--he did not wish to turn it into a tragedy. But she interrupted him impatiently, and said she hated and would have no mercy on you. She would have all or nothing. Your will made her the mistress. What was a crime, more or less, to people like themselves! At these words he uttered a growl. In a word, she added, you were _an obstacle_, and she was going to _suppress you_--with or without his consent. She then proceeded to tell him her resolution; and it is a frightful, a horrible one, sir! All is arranged--you are about to be _murdered_!’ “‘How, and when?’ I said. “‘This very night, by poison!’ “‘Ah!’ I said, ‘explain that.’ “‘Madam has provided herself with strychnine, which she will place in the tea you drink to-night. Tea will be served in half an hour. _He_ will be waiting--for she forced him to agree--and your cries will announce all to him. You will be poisoned between eight and nine o’clock in the evening, sir,--at ten you will already be dying,--and at midnight you will be dead. Then madam will banish every one from her chamber, in inconsolable grief--lock the door--tap on the window-pane--_he_ will hear the signal, and come up the back staircase--when madam will open the private door for him to come in and take a look at your body! Do you understand now, sir?’ “‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Remain here, Nighthawk. There is the step of the servant coming to tell me tea is ready!’” XX. THE CUP OF TEA. “The door opened as I uttered the words, and my old major-domo--gray haired, and an heir-loom, so to say, of the family--bowed low, and announced that tea was served and madam waiting. “I rose and looked into the mirror above the fireplace. I was pale, but not sufficiently so to excite suspicion; and with a smile which frightened Nighthawk, took my way toward the supper-room.