estuously. "A mock marriage! If it is but that scruple
stands between us..."

"I think there is more," she answered him. "You compel me to hurt you; I
do so as the surgeon does--that I may heal you."

"Why, thanks for nothing," he made answer, unable to repress a sneer.
Then, checking himself, and resuming the hero-martyr posture, "I go,
mistress," he told her sadly, "and if I lose my life to-night, or
to-morrow, in this affair..."

"I shall pray for you," said she; for she had found him out at
last, perceived the nature of the bow he sought to draw across her
heart-strings, and, having perceived it, contempt awoke in her. He had
attempted to move her by unfair, insidious means.

He fell back, crimson from chin to brow. He stifled the wrath that
welled up, threatening to choke him. He was a short-necked man, of the
sort--as Trenchard had once reminded him--that falls a prey to apoplexy,
and surely he was never nearer it than at that moment. He made her a
profound bow, bending himself almost in two before her in a very irony
of deference; then, drawing himself up again, he turned and left her.

The plot which with some pride he had hatched and the reward he looked
to cull from it, were now to his soul as ashes to his lips. What could
it profit him to destroy Monmouth so that Anthony Wilding lived? For
whether she loved Wilding or not, she was Wilding's wife. Wilding,
nominally, at least, was master of that which Sir Rowland coveted;
not her heart, indeed, but her ample fortune. Wilding had been a
stumbling-block to him since he had come to Bridgwater; but for Wilding
he might have run a smooth course; he was still fool enough to hug
that dear illusion to his soul. Somewhere in England--if not dead
already--this Wilding lurked, an outlaw, whom any might shoot down at
sight. Sir Rowland swore he would not rest until he knew that Anthony
Wilding cumbered the earth no more--leastways, not the surface of it.

He went forth to seek Newlington. The merchant had sent his message
to the rebel King, and had word in answer that His Majesty would be
graciously pleased to sup at Mr. Newlington's at nine o'clock on
the following evening, attended by a few gentlemen of his immediate
following. Sir Rowland received the news with satisfaction, and sighed
to think that Mr. Wilding--still absent, Heaven knew where--would not be
of the party. It was reported that on the Monday Monmouth was to march
to Gloucester, hoping there to be jo