"Alice," began the Count, "I told you some time ago that I had affianced you to Baron Vigneau. He has followed my fortunes, and lent the prowess of himself and his mercenaries in furthering my interests, in return for which he was to receive your hand in marriage; and I gave him my solemn promise to that effect. His recent conduct has not pleased me, and his addiction to the wine-cup has become inordinate. But I lay the fault of this to the rough times we have had, and I doubt not when peaceful times come again he will become a sober and a virtuous Norman Baron. Anyway, I gave him my promise, and he has fulfilled the obligation. He now presses for the fulfilment of this promise. Much time has already been allowed you to prepare, so I would have you bethink yourself when it can be redeemed. As you know, it rests solely with yourself as to when this event shall be, and my pledges made good. I pray you despise him not, for though he is a landless mercenary, he is brave, and has powerful friends." "Father, this marriage is most distasteful--I may say, most abhorrent to me. The Baron is a man I cannot possibly love; and if my fortune is what he would have, let him take it and welcome--I care not if I am penniless, if I have my liberty. Nay, I would much rather take the veil if I have no other choice than to marry him." "Alice, this cannot be; I cannot break my promise. Once for all let me tell you I dare not. This man has obtained a fatal advantage over me, and it is a question of life and death for me. Listen!" said he, rising and pacing the room with quick nervous tread. "Fool that I was, when this last insurrection of the Saxons broke out I was deeply smarting under the rebuffs I had received at the hands of my mortal enemies Odo and Fitz-Osborne, and the base ingratitude of William. I counted the forces of the rebels, and noted their wonderful successes; and foolishly imagining the Danes and Scots would stand firm, I thought that William's time had come at last. Madman that I was! to think ought could thwart the iron will and marvellous resource. But I had many things to be revenged upon, and I was blinded by it. I thought, now is the time. But worst of all, in sheer madness and infatuation I entrusted letters--deadly compromising letters--to this Vigneau for the leaders of the insurrection. These letters Vigneau never delivered, and he now holds them over my head, the villain! and threatens to divulge the whole thing to William. If he does this, I know well, with the enemies I have at court, that nothing will appease the self-willed tyrant but my head. These letters contain such ample proof of my treasonous intentions that my life literally hangs in the balance if I cannot gratify Vigneau. Fool and dolt that I was to place myself in the power of so unscrupulous a villain!