She stopped short, for she saw Lady Peveril was vexed and embarrassed. “I am,” she said, “the most luckless of beings. I have said something, I know not what, to distress you, Margaret--Mystery is a bad thing, and betwixt us there should be none.” “There is none, madam,” said Lady Peveril, something impatiently; “I waited but an opportunity to tell my husband what had happened--Sir Geoffrey, Master Bridgenorth was unfortunately here when the Lady Derby and I met; and he thought it part of his duty to speak of----” “To speak of what?” said the Knight, bending his brows. “You were ever something too fond, dame, of giving way to the usurpation of such people.” “I only mean,” said Lady Peveril, “that as the person--he to whom Lord Derby’s story related--was the brother of his late lady, he threatened--but I cannot think that he was serious.” “Threaten?--threaten the Lady of Derby and Man in my house!--the widow of my friend--the noble Charlotte of Latham House!--by Heaven, the prick-eared slave shall answer it! How comes it that my knaves threw him not out of the window?” “Alas! Sir Geoffrey, you forget how much we owe him,” said the lady. “Owe him!” said the Knight, still more indignant; for in his singleness of apprehension he conceived that his wife alluded to pecuniary obligations,--“if I do owe him some money, hath he not security for it? and must he have the right, over and above, to domineer and play the magistrate in Martindale Castle?--Where is he?--what have you made of him? I will--I must speak with him.” “Be patient, Sir Geoffrey,” said the Countess, who now discerned the cause of her kinswoman’s apprehension; “and be assured I did not need your chivalry to defend me against this discourteous faitour, as _Morte d’Arthur_ would have called him. I promise you my kinswoman hath fully righted my wrong; and I am so pleased to owe my deliverance entirely to her gallantry, that I charge and command you, as a true knight, not to mingle in the adventure of another.” Lady Peveril, who knew her husband’s blunt and impatient temper, and perceived that he was becoming angry, now took up the story, and plainly and simply pointed out the cause of Master Bridgenorth’s interference. “I am sorry for it,” said the Knight; “I thought he had more sense; and that this happy change might have done some good upon him. But you should have told me this instantly--It consists not with my honour that he should be kept prisoner in this house, as if I feared anything he could do to annoy the noble Countess, while she is under my roof, or within twenty miles of this Castle.” So saying, and bowing to the Countess, he went straight to the gilded chamber, leaving Lady Peveril in great anxiety for the event of an angry meeting between a temper hasty as that of her husband, and stubborn like that of Bridgenorth. Her apprehensions were, however, unnecessary; for the meeting was not fated to take place.