That night there came to the castle-gate a man dressed in a black cloak, attended by a servant. They were both mounted on good horses, and they demanded to be admitted to the presence of the Countess de Hugo de Verole. The message was carried to the countess, who started, but said,— “Admit the stranger.” Accordingly the stranger was admitted, and shown into the apartment where the countess was sitting. At a signal the servants retired, leaving the countess and the stranger alone. It was some moments ere they spoke, and then the countess said in a low tone,— “You are come?” “I am come.” “You cannot now, you see, perform your threat. My husband, the count, caught a putrid disease, and he is no more.” “I cannot indeed do what I intended, inform your husband of your amours; but I can do something as good, and which will give you as much annoyance.” “Indeed.” “Aye, more, it will cause you to be hated. I can spread reports.” “You can.” “And these may ruin you.” “They may.” “What do you intend to do? Do you intend that I shall be an enemy or a friend? I can be either, according to my will.” “What, do you desire to be either?” inquired the countess, with a careless tone. “If you refuse my terms, you can make me an implacable enemy, and if you grant them, you can make me a useful friend and auxiliary,” said the stranger. “What would you do if you were my enemy?” inquired the countess. “It is hardly my place,” said the stranger, “to furnish you with a knowledge of my intentions, but I will say this much, that the bankrupt Count of Morven is your lover.” “Well?” “And in the second place, that you were the cause of the death of your husband.” “How dare you, sir——” “I dare say so much, and I dare say, also, that the Count of Morven bought the drug of me, and that he gave it to you, and that you gave it to the count your husband.” “And what could you do if you were my friend?” inquired the countess, in the same tone, and without emotion. “I should abstain from doing all this; should be able to put any one else out of your way for you, when you get rid of this Count of Morven, as you assuredly will; for I know him too well not to be sure of that.” “Get rid of him!” “Exactly, in the same manner you got rid of the old count.” “Then I accept your terms.” “It is agreed, then?” “Yes, quite.” “Well, then, you must order me some rooms in a tower, where I can pursue my studies in quiet.” “You will be seen and noticed—all will be discovered.” “No, indeed, I will take care of that, I can so far disguise myself that he will not recognise me, and you can give out I am a philosopher or necromancer, or what you will; no one will come to me—they will be terrified.” “Very well.” “And the gold?” “Shall be forthcoming as soon as I can get it. The count has placed all his gold in safe keeping, and all I can seize are the rents as they become due.”