"Ay, by our lord, they are," she cried, swearing roundly. "And why? Because there are no men nowadays, but mealy-mouthed Josephs, like that trembler yonder, whose heart is in his boots because I want him carry a message." And she pointed to me with her long cane, while her head quivered with excitement and age. "Sort him out; sort him out and send him with me; or we quarrel, my lord." "Well, madam, your will is law in this house," the Duke said; "but----" "But no lies!" she cried. "D'ye send him." My lord bowed reluctantly. "Go," he said, looking at me. "And bid him do as I tell him," she cried sharply. "But he had better, or---- Still, tell him, tell him." "Price," my lord said soberly, "the Countess is good enough to wish you to do an errand for her. Be good enough to consider yourself at her disposal, and go with the coach now. Be easy," he continued, nodding pleasantly--it was impossible for me to hide my apprehensions--"her ladyship needs you for a week only." "Ay, sure!" she cried. "After that he may go to the devil for me!" CHAPTER XXXV Rightly has the Latin poet sung of the _dura ilia_ of the Fates, who either resistless rout all human resolutions, or, where the mind has been hardened to meet the attack, turn the poor wretch's flank, and lo! while he squares his shield, and shortens his spear to meet the occasion, _habet_--he has it under the fifth rib. So it was with me. While I dreamed of resistance, and would harden my heart and set fast my feet, fate cross-buttocked me; and I fell, not knowing. The Countess's coach bore me away, unresisting; and Smith, whom I hated as I never hated even Ferguson, gave me the word. From my plain clothes, to the long curled peruke, the cravat, ruffles, and fine suit in which I had once before paraded myself, was but a step; I took it perforce, and being conducted, when I was ready, into the Countess's chamber, to wait her pleasure, could have fancied the last six months a dream--could have fancied the conspirators still at work, Captain Barclay still pacing the Piazza, my lord still a stranger to me, the library a vision; in a word, I could have fancied all those events, which had filled half a year, to be no more than creatures of the imagination, so unchanged was the great silent room, where my lady, while I waited, played piquet with Monterey, amid the gorgeousness of her rose-and-silver suite.