“Ay, of Lord Rotherby--and not a word more than is true,” put in the earl. “Do you know--but you do not--the extent of your precious son's villainy? At Maidstone, where I overtook them--at the Adam and Eve--he had a make-believe parson, and he was luring this poor child into a mock-marriage.” Her ladyship stared. “Mock-marriage?” she echoed. “Marriage? La!” And again she vented her unpleasant laugh. “Did she insist on that, the prude? Y' amaze me!” “Surely, my love, you do not apprehend. Had Lord Rotherby's parson not been detected and unmasked by Mr. Caryll, here--” “Would you ha' me believe she did not know the fellow was no parson?” “Oh!” cried Hortensia. “Your ladyship has a very wicked soul. May God forgive you!” “And who is to forgive you?” snapped the countess. “I need no forgiveness, for I have done no wrong. A folly, I confess to. I was mad to have heeded such a villain.” Her ladyship gathered forces for a fresh assault. But Mr. Caryll anticipated it. It was no doubt a great impertinence in him; but he saw Hortensia's urgent need, and he felt, moreover, that not even Lord Ostermore would resent his crossing swords a moment with her ladyship. “You would do well, ma'am, to remember,” said he, in his singularly precise voice, “that Lord Rotherby even now--and as things have fallen out--is by no means quit of all danger.” She looked at this smooth gentleman, and his words burned themselves into her brain. She quivered with mingling fear and anger. “Wha'--what is't ye mean?” quoth she. “That even at this hour, if the matter were put about, his lordship might be brought to account for it, and it might fare very ill with him. The law of England deals heavily with an offense such as Lord Rotherby's, and the attempt at a mock-marriage, of which there is no lack of evidence, would so aggravate the crime of abduction, if he were informed against, that it might go very hard with him.” Her jaw fell. She caught more than an admonition in his words. It almost seemed to her that he was threatening. “Who--who is to inform?” she asked point-blank, her tone a challenge; and yet the odd change in it from its recent aggressiveness was almost ludicrous. “Ah--who?” said Mr. Caryll, raising his eyes and fetching a sigh. “It would appear that a messenger from the Secretary of State--on another matter--was at the Adam and Eve at the time with two of his catchpolls, and he was a witness of the whole affair. Then again,” and he waved a hand doorwards, “servants are servants. I make no doubt they are listening, and your ladyship's voice has scarce been controlled. You can never say when a servant may cease to be a servant, and become an active enemy.” “Damn the servants!” she swore, dismissing them from consideration. “Who is this messenger of the secretary's? Who is he?” “He was named Green. 'Tis all I know.” “And where may he be found?” “I cannot say.”