After the manner of a woman of her class, she raised her voice as she spoke; when, in alarm, the Scot darted to and closed the door, turning the little inside bolt, and then hurrying back to his betrothed's side; for there was something threatening in the baronet's looks, as he rose from his chair, glaring the while at his wife's maid. "Stand back, McCray!" cried Jane, hoarsely, as he laid his hand upon her arm. "I've been silent all these months, but I'll speak now. Let him strike me if he dares, but he dare not! See here!" she cried, "I've brought your little one down to you, to see if it will do anything towards melting your hard, proud, cruel heart, and making you tell the truth! Tell me now, and at once, what you have done with my dear lady!" "Take her away, and this instant!" hissed Sir Murray. "The woman's mad!" "Mad! No, I am not mad! Keep back, McCray; I won't go! Touch me again, and I'll scream so as to alarm the house; and then all the servants shall hear what I mean to say to you alone. I'm not afraid, I tell you, and I will be answered. But, oh, Sir Murray!" she cried, softening for a moment, "tell me where the poor thing is! What have you done with her?" "You Scotch wolf!" exclaimed Sir Murray, in a rage, to the gardener, "why do you not take the mad fool from my sight?" McCray placed his arm round Jane, and tried to lead her off; but she struggled from him, and uttered a wild, piercing scream that made him start aside, as if the shrill sound had pierced him like a sword. "I will not go!" cried the girl, stamping with fury. "I will know first! Do you think I am to be cheated and blinded by all this pretended hunting to find my poor darling, ill-used lady? Why did you come, with your pride and your money, to her happy home, and take her away to be your miserable wife? Why did you ever come near the poor, sweet innocent? And then, after all her suffering, to insult her with your cruel, base suspicions, so unmanly--so false!" "Curse the woman! Am I to strike her in the mouth?" raged Sir Murray, in a hoarse whisper; for there were voices to be heard outside-- evidently those of the servants, alarmed by the wild shriek, and once the door was softly tried. "Na--na, Sir Mooray!" said McCray; "nae blows to a woman. The puir thing's daft wi' grief and passion, and greeting after her lady; but she'll be better therectly. Whush, then, Jenny, let's gang our gait, and leave the laird to himsel'." "If you touch me again, McCray, I'll alarm the house!" cried Jane; and the great Scot fell back once more, as going closer to Sir Murray Gernon, she continued, hoarsely: