[figure description] Page 243.[end figure description]

In an upper room of Westbrooke Hall,
difficult of access, and almost unsuspected,
so carefully was it concealed by jutting
gables and angles, sat the recluse
whom we left in her hut on the headland, when
Earle set out for Maverick House.

Two days before, she had been kidnapped.
This was very simply effected. The man
Gubbs, in the absence of Wilde, the baronet's
factotum, undertook the affair, went thither after
midnight, simply seized and gagged the solitary
woman, forced her to enter a light carriage,
and then drove off swiftly through woodland
by-roads to Westbrooke Hall, which they
reached before daylight.

The recluse was then conducted to the

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apartment which we have spoken of above; the door
was locked upon her; she was left to her reflections;
and, whilst still engaged in this occupation,
Sir Murdaugh had entered.

“Welcome to Westbrooke Hall, your ladyship!”
was his ironical greeting. “Can I do
aught to render your sojourn here more agreeable?
If the servants exhibit any neglect, pray
inform me of the fact, Charmed to see you,
my dear madam,—really charmed, upon my
word!”

The recluse looked at him coldly. There
was not a particle of nervous trepidation in her
expression.

“You do not reply, my lady. Pray honor
me with a few words: your voice invariably
charms me.”

“I do not reply because I have none to make,
sir,” said the woman, with entire
calmness.
“What response is necessary to an outrage
like this?”

“An outrage, madam?”

“Is it not an outrage to send a wretch
in your pay to seize an unprotected woman
and to drag her off thus to a place of concealment?”

“Well, it is irregular.”

[figure description] Page 245.[end figure description]

The baronet grinned and was evidently enjoying
himself.

“Your object?”

“Well, shall I be frank with you, madam?”

“If you can.”

“Shall I tell you my first plan, or my
second?”

“Speak!”

“First, I thought I would—well, would—
murder you, my dear madam. That is an ugly
word, but you may retort that it suits me. Perhaps
it does. I am not a beauty, and my life,
tried by a strictly moral standard, may not be
beautiful morally. Yes! I thought I would get
rid of you.”

“Why have you not done so, then?” was the
cold inquiry.

The baronet's face grew dark.

“It is not too late,” he said in a threatening
tone; “beware how you defy me.”

“Defy you? Do you suppose I am afraid of
you? No! do as you will. Yes! I do defy
you.”

And the woman rose to her full height.

“I never feared you,” she said, looking at
him with superb scorn in her eyes. “I fled
from you to rescue a child from your poisonous

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association. That child is safe from you now.
You cannot harm him, for he knows you. As
to me, what care I, think you? Nothing.”

And she sat down again.

The baronet scowled at her with sudden
wrath. Then this changed to a sneer.

“Good, good!” he said; “the same spirit that
used to blaze cut in Marianne Earle, twenty
years ago. Ah! you look at me with your
fine disdain. You would say that I provoked
you then. Well, so be it; let that go. I am
here to speak of the present and future—your
future. I will do so very briefly, madam. I
brought you here intending to get rid of you, if
necessary. It is not necessary. I will simply
send you to St. Domingo. My good servitor,
Wilde, who is known to you, will accompany
your ladyship. He is absent now on important
business, but will soon return. Then I will call
on madam again.”

And sneering, he went out abruptly.

p517-252

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