"I have played the trump card and taken the trick," laughed Rosmore. "Now comes the taming of Mistress Lanison. I should hate her for defying me did I not desire her so much." What he chose to think love was perhaps not far removed from hate. He longed to possess, to bend to his will, to have the woman who stood for so much in the estimation of so many men. Self-gratification controlled him, the desire that men should once again know how useless it was to attempt rivalry with him. He had a reputation to maintain, and he would maintain it at all hazards. He had begun to weigh carefully in his mind the plans he had formed, when the door opened. "Ah! you loveable little trickster!" he exclaimed as Harriet Payne entered. "Come and let me thank you. Gold and trinkets I have none to-night; but--" "I do not want them," she said. "Love and kisses, my love and kisses," he said, drawing her on to his knee. "I've spent wakeful nights thinking of you; now I am happy again." After a while she disengaged herself a little from his embrace. "Playing the traitor is not pleasant," she said. "It is a despicable game," he answered, filling a glass with wine and handing it to her. "Drink confusion to all traitors." "That would be to curse myself." "You are so clever that I wonder you should think me capable of asking you to do a treacherous action, even for love of me," said Rosmore. "You shall know my great scheme now that you have so well earned full partnership in it. But tell me the whole story first. I heard of the dropped handkerchief. That was excellently conceived." Harriet told him of her visit to Barbara Lanison in London, repeating almost word for word what had been said. She told him of the journey to Dorchester, almost acted for his benefit the part of sobbing and frightened woman which she had played so well, and Rosmore laughed and applauded her. "Excellent! Most excellent!" "And now?" said the girl, "what is to happen? What is in store for her now she is in Dorchester? You swore to me that I should not be bringing her into the hands of Judge Jeffreys. Into whose hands have I delivered her?" "Into mine," said Rosmore. "For what purpose?" "To save her from herself. It is a long story, but you shall have it presently. I shall still want your help." "You do not love her?" the girl questioned almost fiercely, "There are those about you who believe that I am your plaything, useful to do your bidding, only to be thrown aside when you have no more need of me." "Who has dared to say so? Tell me!" Rosmore was splendid in his sudden wrath, and Harriet Payne was a little frightened. "Nay, I will not injure anyone. It is natural for a man to think so seeing what you are and what I am." Rosmore turned her towards a mirror on the wall.