onk, or
the bonnet of an inquisitor. He seemed inexorable, and inscrutable as
fate itself.

"Well, Lady Trafford," he said, fixing a severe look upon her. "You
depart for Lancashire to-morrow. Have I your final answer?"

"You have, Sir Rowland," she answered, in a feeble tone, but firmly.
"You shall have the sum you require, but----"

"But what, Madam!"

"Do not misunderstand me," she proceeded. "I give it to King James--not
so you: for the furtherance of a great and holy cause, not for the
prosecution of wild and unprofitable schemes."

Sir Rowland bit his lips to repress the answer that rose to them.

"And the will?" he said, with forced calmness. "Do you still refuse to
make one!"

"I _have_ made one," replied Lady Trafford.

"How?" cried her brother, starting.

"Rowland," she rejoined, "you strive in vain to terrify me into
compliance with your wishes. Nothing shall induce me to act contrary to
the dictates of my conscience. My will is executed, and placed in safe
custody."

"In whose favour is it made?" he inquired, sternly.

"In favour of my son."

"You have no son," rejoined Sir Rowland, moodily.

"I _had_ one," answered his sister, in a mournful voice; "and, perhaps,
I have one still."

"If I thought so--" cried the knight fiercely; "but this is idle," he
added, suddenly checking himself. "Aliva, your child perished with its
father."

"And by whom were they both destroyed?" demanded his sister, raising
herself by a painful effort, and regarding him with a searching glance.

"By the avenger of his family's dishonour--by your brother," he replied,
coolly.

"Brother," cried Lady Trafford, her eye blazing with unnatural light,
and her cheek suffused with a crimson stain: "Brother," she cried,
lifting her thin fingers towards Heaven, "as God shall judge me, I was
wedded to that murdered man!"

"A lie!" ejaculated Sir Rowland, furiously; "a black, and damning lie!"

"It is the truth," replied his sister, falling backwards upon the couch.
"I will swear it upon the cross!"

"His name, then?" demanded the knight. "Tell me that, and I will believe
you."

"Not now--not now!" she returned, with a shudder. "When I am dead you
will learn it. Do not disquiet yourself. You will not have to wait long
for the information. Rowland," she added, in an altered tone, "I am
certain I shall not live many days. And if you treat me in this way, you
will have my death to answer for, as well as the deaths of my