I smiled grimly, but made no reply to her question. In fact, I was all at sea as to what to do, and I knew that she was in the same state of mind. For several minutes there was silence between us; neither of us had a word further to say. Of a sudden my mistress snapped her fingers and a light as of a new idea began to sparkle in her eyes. “He is a Catholic,” she said. “I wish the laws that apply to priests would apply to him.” She muttered these words half aloud as if she was talking to herself. But her next sentence was addressed to me. “You know that when a Jesuit priest steps across the boundary of our province we hang him. That is our law.” She dropped her eyes again and seemed, as before, to muse aloud. “Poor little Ruth. Such sweet, sweet eyes; so sad. They were not sad at first—they grew sad. Had it been only trouble that won her young life away! But to be robbed of it by a Roman Catholic. If you could have seen her face, so cold and pale when I went to see the mark of the hot iron!” She turned her eyes towards me suddenly. “Have you ever smelt burning flesh?” she demanded. “For God’s sake!” I cried. “You pierce me to the heart.” Words cannot express the agony I felt at this mention of the manner of my sister’s death; but, in spite of my misery, Lady Marmaduke went on without pity. “He did not brand her, but he did worse. He went to her room at night and murdered her in bed. Why? Because—” I put out my hand in a gesture of appeal. She left the sentence unfinished and began anew. “Can you not see, friend Michael, why I twist this knife of recollection till it galls you to the quick? Le Bourse, did you love your sister?” “What of that?” I answered hoarsely, wondering why she asked me such a question. “Do you think that you will be able to keep your life in your body for a week now that you have given such offense to the leader of the Red Band? You hesitate. Nay, answer me honestly. Unless you skulk like a coward and hide yourself inside my house, how long will you escape their vengeance?” I shook my head. Indeed there was no limit of time too brief to suit the truth. “Did you love your sister?” “Why do you ask that question as if you doubted it?” I answered petulantly. “Do you not know that—” “Tut, tut, I do not doubt you, but I wonder whether you will stand the test. This is no common enemy you have to deal with. He is a wily man and wields much power. By your own reckoning your life is not worth that.” She snapped her fingers. “You must take the game into your own hands. If you should die, who would avenge Ruth?” “Or Sir Evelin?” I responded.