"Why cannot he speak out?" muttered Dick. "This uncertainty is worse than anything." "What says the damsel herself," observed Sir Thomas Lake. "Does she admit the charge?" "You cannot expect her to do that, Sir Thomas," interposed Lord Roos. "I expect her to answer my question," rejoined the Secretary of State, sharply. "Were you in Lord Roos's room last night?" he added, to Gillian. "Oh, dear! I am ready to faint," she exclaimed. "Catch me, Dick--catch me!" "Answer 'yes' or 'no,' or I won't," he rejoined. "Well, then, 'yes!' if I must say something," she replied. Poor Dick fell back, as if struck by a shot. "I don't believe it," cried Sir Thomas. "Nor I either," said Dick, recovering himself. "I don't believe she could do such a wicked thing. Besides, it was the foreign ambassador, there," he added, pointing to De Gondomar, "who seemed most enamoured of her yesterday; and I shouldn't have been so much surprised if she had gone to see him. Perhaps she did," he continued, addressing the poor damsel, who again hung her head. "I can take upon me to affirm that such was not the case," observed De Gondomar. "Have you the lock of hair with you?" whispered Sir Thomas to his lady. "I have," she replied, taking a small packet from her bosom. The movement did not pass unnoticed by Lord Roos and the Spanish Ambassador, between whom an almost imperceptible smile passed. "If you have put all the interrogations you desire to make to Gillian, Madam," said Lord Roos to his mother-in-law, "perhaps she may be permitted to depart? The situation cannot be agreeable to her." "A moment more, my lord," cried Lady Lake. "If I detain her it is to clear her character. I know her to be perfectly innocent." At this announcement, Dick Taverner's countenance brightened, and he extended his arms towards Gillian, who gladly availed herself of his support. "I am quite sure she was not the person I surprised in your chamber last night," continued Lady Lake. "Indeed, Madam! How do you arrive at that conviction?" "Because that person's hair was jet black, whereas Gillian's, as we see, is of the exactly opposite colour." Dick Taverner could not help pressing his lips against the back of the pretty damsel's neck as this was uttered. "Your proof of this, Madam?" demanded Lord Roos. "Behold it!" she cried. "This look of hair was cut off before your visitant escaped, and has remained in my possession ever since. Ha! how is this?" she exclaimed, as she unfolded the packet, and disclosed a tress of fair hair, evidently matching Gillian's lint-white locks. "What transformation has taken place! Witchcraft has been practised. This is the Countess's work." "The minion must have been there, after all," cried Dick Taverner, thrusting Gillian from him. "The charge of witchcraft will not serve your turn, Madam," said Lord Roos derisively. "The explanation is simple. Your eyes have deceived you."