My brother sent me word that she died in childbed,
and the child with her. I was then in Brussels with the Duke."
Miss Horn made three great strides, caught the marquis's hand in
both hers, and said, "I praise God ye 're an honest man, my lord."
"I hope so," said the marquis, and seized the advantage "You'll hold
your tongue about this ?" he added, half inquiring, half requesting.
"As lang as I see rizzon, my lord, nae langer," answered Miss Horn,
dropping his hand. "Richt maun be dune."
"Yes--if you can tell what right is, and avoid wrong to others."
"Richt 's richt, my lord," persisted Miss Horn. "I 'll hae nae
modifi-qualifications!"
His lordship once more began to walk up and down the room every now
and then taking a stolen glance at Miss Horn, a glance of uneasy
anxious questioning. She stood rigid--a very Lot's wife of
immobility, her eyes on the ground, waiting what he would say next.
"I wish I knew whether I could trust her," he said at length, as
if talking aloud to himself.
Miss Horn took no notice.
"Why don't you speak, woman?" cried the marquis with irritation.
How he hated perplexity!
"Ye speired nae queston, my lord; an' gien ye had, my word has ower
little weicht to answer wi'."
"Can I trust you, woman--I want to know," said his lordship
angrily.
"No far'er, my lord, nor to du what I think 's richt."
"I want to be certain that you will do nothing with those letters
until you hear from me?" said the marquis, heedless of her reply.
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