"Heaven may forgive you for that great wrong, woman; but I never can! And--the lady believed you?" "Of course she did! How could she help it, when she saw all the proofs? It almost killed her. Indeed, and I think it _did_ quite craze her! But she saw her duty, and she had the courage to do it! She knew as she ought to leave you, before the false marriage could go any further. So she left you. I do really respect her for it!" "In the name of Heaven, _where_ did she go? Tell me that! Tell me where to find her, and I may be able to pardon the great wrong you have done us under some insane error," said the husband of the lost wife, striving to control his indignation. "Indeed, then," exclaimed Mrs. Brown, defiantly, "I am not asking any pardon at all from you, Mr. Scott. It ain't likely as I'll want pardon from Heaven for doing my duty, much less from _you_, Mr. John Scott. Oh, yes! I know you are called the Duke of Hereward; and no doubt you are the Duke of Hereward; but I knew you as Mr. John Scott, and nobody else; and I knew a deal too much of you as _him_. But as to wanting your pardon--that's a good one!" "Will you be good enough to tell me where my wife, the Duchess of Hereward, has gone?" demanded the duke, putting a strong curb upon his anger. "_You_ know where _she_ is well enough. _She_ is in the _trap_ you set for her!" spitefully answered the woman. In truth, the duke needed all his powers of self-control to enable him to reply calmly: "I ask you to tell me where is the Lady of Lone, to whom you went on Tuesday afternoon, with a story which has driven her from her home, and driven her, perhaps, to madness, or to death. I charge you to tell me, where is she?" "Ah! where is Miss Salome Levison, the heiress of Lone, you ask! Exactly! That is what you would give a great deal to know, wouldn't you! You want to follow and join her, and live with her abroad, because you have got a wife living in England. You're a noble duke, so you are! Well, if _this_ is what the nobility are a coming to, the sooner them Republicans have it all their own way the better, I say!" exclaimed Mrs. Brown, throwing herself back in her chair and folding her arms. Detective Setter here joined the Duke of Hereward, and deferentially drew him away to the other end of the room, and whispered: "I beg your grace not to remain here, subjected to the insolence of this mad woman, whose every second word is treason or blasphemy, or worse, if anything can be worse. Leave me to deal with her. A very little more, and I shall arrest her on the grave charge of conspiracy." "No, Setter, do nothing of the sort. Use no violence; utter no threats. _Now_, if ever--here, if anywhere--is a crisis, at which we must be not only 'wise as serpents, but _harmless_ as doves,' if we would gain any information from this woman," answered Salome's husband, as he walked back and rejoined Mrs. Brown.