"Another party to the affair--and a woman!" ejaculated Sir Thomas. "The dangers of discovery are multiplied a hundredfold." "The danger exists only in your imagination," said his Lady. "Come, admit, Sir Thomas, that the scheme is well contrived, and that they must be cunning indeed if they escape from the meshes I have woven for them." "You have displayed ingenuity enough, I am free to own, if it had been directed to a better end; but in the best contrived scheme some flaw is ever found, which is sure to mar it." "You can detect no flaw in this I am persuaded, Sir Thomas. If you can, let me know it?" "Nay, it is only when too late that such things are found out. The supposed armour of proof is then found wanting at some vital point. However, I will say no more," he observed, perceiving her impatience. "What is done cannot be undone. Have you prepared our daughter? Will she consent to aid you?" "She will," replied Lady Lake. "I had some difficulty with her at first, but I found means to overrule her scruples, and she consented at last to act as I desired, provided all other means failed of accomplishing the object in view. And they _have_ failed since we have lost those letters, for though I have one other proof left which might perhaps be adduced, I do not attach much importance to it." "What is it?" inquired Sir Thomas, quickly. "You shall know anon," she answered. "Suffice it, I have done all I could to avoid having recourse to the present measure; and have delayed--its execution to the last moment." "But that proof of which you were speaking?" cried Sir Thomas. "Let me hear it? Perhaps it may obviate the necessity of this dangerous proceeding?" "I do not think so. But you shall judge. Last night, our daughter and myself obtained secret admittance to Lord Roos's chamber, and we found the Countess there, and fainting in his arms." "Why that is enough to convict them. You want nothing more." "Hear me to an end, and you will change your opinion. Placing the inanimate Countess on a couch, and covering her face with a handkerchief, Lord Roos had the effrontery to assert that we were mistaken; insisting that it was not Lady Exeter we beheld--but her hand-maiden, Gillian Greenford; and he appealed to the perfidious knave, Diego, in confirmation of his assertion." "But you did not leave without satisfying yourselves of the truth?" demanded Sir Thomas. "His lordship took care we should have no means of doing so," she answered. "He caused Diego to convey her away by a secret staircase." "'Sdeath! that was unlucky. You have no proof then that it was the Countess you beheld?" "Nothing beyond a lock of her hair, which was secured by Lady Roos as the man was removing her." "That may be enough," cried the Secretary of State; "and prevent the necessity of resorting to this frightful expedient. We must see the girl, and interrogate her. Gillian Greenford you say she is called. She shall be brought hither at once."