"Who is to administer the deadly draught?"
"Luke Hatton, Lady Lake's apothecary. He is a creature of mine, and
entirely devoted to me."
"Our lives will be in his hands ever afterwards," said the Countess, in
a deep whisper.
"They will be in safe keeping," he rejoined, endeavouring to reassure
her.
"O, William! I would I could prevail upon you to defer this project."
"To what end? The sooner it is done the better. It cannot, indeed, be
deferred. I shall send for Luke Hatton to-night."
At this announcement, the Countess, who had gradually been growing
fainter and becoming paler, lost all power of supporting herself, and,
uttering a cry, fell into his outstretched arms in a state of complete
insensibility.
While Lord Roos, half distracted, was considering what means he could
adopt for her restoration, a man, with an almost tawny complexion, hair
and eyes to match, and habited in the young nobleman's livery of crimson
and white, suddenly entered from the ante-chamber.
"How dare you come in unsummoned, Diego?" cried Lord Roos, furiously.
"Begone instantly, sirrah!".
"I crave your lordship's pardon," replied the Spanish servant; "but I
was obliged to apprise you that your wife, the Baroness Roos, and Lady
Lake are without, and will not be denied admission."
"Damnation!" exclaimed Lord Roos. "What brings them here at such an
hour? But you must on no account admit them, Diego--at least, till I
have had time to remove the Countess to her own chamber.
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