And, ere her blood could cool, she was subjected to the keen, cold scrutiny of another female, and that female a secret rival. CHAPTER XXI. Would you learn what men gain by admitting a member of the fair sex into their conspiracies? read the tragedy of "Venice Preserved"; and, by way of afterpiece, this little chapter. Mrs. Gaunt sat pale and very silent, and Caroline Ryder stood behind, doing up her hair into a magnificent structure that added eight inches to the lady's height: and in this operation her own black hair and keen black eyes came close to the golden hair and deep blue eyes, now troubled, and made a picture striking by contrast. As she was putting the finishing touches, she said, quietly, "If you please, Dame, I have somewhat to tell you." Mrs. Gaunt sighed wearily, expecting some very minute communication. "Well, Dame, I dare say I am risking my place, but I can't help it." "Another time, Ryder," said Mrs. Gaunt. "I am in no humor to be worried with my servants' squabbles." "Nay, madam, 't is not that at all: 't is about Father Leonard. Sure you would not like him to be drawn through the horse-pond; and that is what they mean to do next time he comes here." In saying these words, the jade contrived to be adjusting Mrs. Gaunt's dress. The lady's heart gave a leap, and the servant's cunning finger felt it, and then felt a shudder run all over that stately frame. But after that Mrs. Gaunt seemed to turn to steel. She distrusted Ryder, she could not tell why; distrusted her, and was upon her guard. "You must be mistaken," said she. "Who would dare to lay hands on a priest in my house?" "Well, Dame, you see they egg one another on: don't ask me to betray my fellow-servants; but let us balk them. I don't deceive you, Dame: if the good priest shows his face here, he will be thrown into the horse-pond, and sent home with a ticket pinned to his back. Them that is to do it are on the watch now, and have got their orders; and 't is a burning shame. To be sure I am not a Catholic; but religion is religion, and a more heavenly face I never saw: and for it to be dragged through a filthy horse-pond!" Mrs. Gaunt clutched her inspector's arm and turned pale. "The villains! the fiends!" she gasped, "Go ask your master to come to me this moment." Ryder took a step or two, then stopped. "Alack, Dame," said she, "that is not the way to do. You may be sure the others would not dare, if my master had not shown them his mind." Mrs. Gaunt stopped her ears. "Don't tell me that _he_ has ordered this impious, cruel, cowardly act. He is a lion: and this comes from the heart of cowardly curs. What is to be done, woman? tell me; for you are cooler than I am." "Well, Dame, if I were in your place, I'd just send him a line, and bid him stay away till the storm blows over." "You are right. But who is to carry it? My own servants are traitors to me." "I'll carry it myself."