But the young nobleman remained silent.

“Not a word—­not a word in my favour,” the Countess exclaimed, in a voice of anguish.  “Nay, then I am indeed lost!”

“You are lost past redemption,” cried Lady Lake with an outburst of fierce exultation, and a look as if she would have trampled her beneath her feet.  “You have forfeited honour, station, life.  Guilty of disloyalty to your proud and noble husband, you have sought to remove by violent deaths those who stood between you and your lover.  Happily your dreadful purpose has been defeated; but this avowal of your criminality with Lord Roos, signed by yourself and witnessed by his lordship and his Spanish servant,—­this shall be laid within an hour before the Earl of Exeter.”

“My brain turns round.  I am bewildered with all these frightful accusations,” exclaimed the Countess distractedly.  “I have made no confession,—­have signed none.”

“Methought you said I had witnessed it, Madam?” cried Lord Roos, almost as much bewildered as Lady Exeter.

“Will you deny your own handwriting, my Lord?” rejoined Lady Lake; “or will the Countess?  Behold the confession, subscribed by the one, and witnessed by the other.”

“It is a forgery!” shrieked the Countess.  “You have charged me with witchcraft; but you practise it yourself.”

“If I did not know it to be false, I could have sworn the hand was yours, Countess,” cried Lord Roos; “and my own signature is equally skilfully simulated.”

“False or not,” cried Lady Lake, “it shall be laid before Lord Exeter as I have said—­with all the details—­ay, and before the King.”

“Before the King!” repeated Lord Roos, as he drew near Lady Exeter, and whispered in her ear—­“Countess, our sole safety is in immediate flight.  Circumstances are so strong against us, that we shall never be able to disprove this forgery.”

“Then save yourself in the way you propose, my Lord,” she rejoined, with scorn.  “For me, I shall remain, and brave it out.”

The young nobleman made a movement towards the door.

“You cannot go forth without my order, my Lord,” cried Sir Thomas Lake.  “It is guarded.”

“Perdition!” exclaimed Lord Roos.

Again Lady Lake looked from one to the other with a smile of triumph.  But it was presently checked by a look from her daughter, who made a sign to her to approach her.

“What would you, my child?—­more of the cordial?” demanded Lady Lake.

“No, mother,” she replied, in a tone so low as to be inaudible to the others.  “Nor will I suffer another drop to pass my lips unless my husband be allowed to depart without molestation.”

“Would you interfere with my vengeance?” said Lady Lake.

“Ay, mother, I will interfere with it effectually unless you comply,” rejoined Lady Roos, firmly.  “I will acquaint the Countess with the true nature of that confession.  As it is, she has awakened by her conduct some feelings of pity in my breast.”