i, and so plotted my brother's death. But
your sweet one will go before the Poknees, and with irons on her wrists,
and a rope round her--"

"You she-devil!" shouted Lambert in a frenzy of rage, and forgetting in
his anger the presence of Agnes.

"Words of honey under the moon," mocked the girl, then suddenly became
tender. "Let her go, rye, let her go. My love is all for you, and when
we pad the hoof together, those who hate us shall take off the hat."

Lambert sat glaring at her furiously, and Agnes glided between him and
the girl, fearful lest he should spring up and insult her. But she
addressed her words to Chaldea. "Why do you think I got Mr. Lambert to
kill my husband?" she asked, wincing at having to put the question, but
seeing that it was extremely necessary to learn all she could from the
gypsy.

The other woman drew her shawl closely round her fine form and snapped
her fingers contemptuously. "It needs no chovihani to tell. Hearne the
Romany was poor, Pine the Gentile chinked gold in his pockets. Says you
to yourself, 'He I love isn't him with money.' And says you, 'If I don't
get my true rom, the beauty of the world will clasp him to her breast.'
So you goes for to get Hearne out of the flesh, to wed the rye here on
my brother's rich possessions. Avali," she nodded vigorously. "That is
so, though 'No' you says to me, for wisdom. Red money you have gained,
my daring sister, for the blood of a Romany chal has changed the color.
But I'm no--"

How long she would have continued to rage at Lady Agnes it is impossible
to say, for the invalid, with the artificial strength of furious anger,
sprang from his chair to turn her out of the room. Chaldea dodged him in
the alert way of a wild animal.

"That's no love-embrace, my rye," she jibed, retreating swiftly. "Later,
later, when the moon rises, my angel," and she slipped deftly through
the door with a contemptuous laugh. Lambert would have followed, but
that Agnes caught his arm, and with tears in her eyes implored him to
remain.

"But what can we do in the face of such danger?" she asked him when he
was quieter, and breaking down, she sobbed bitterly.

"We must meet it boldly. Silver has the forged letter: he must be
arrested."

"But the scandal, Noel. Dare we--"

"Agnes, you are innocent: I am innocent. Innocence can dare all things."

Both sick, both troubled, both conscious of the dark clouds around them,
they looked at one another in silence. Then