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Updated: September 1, 2025
"I have not the honor of your ward's acquaintance, Lady Ostermore," said Lady Mary, whilst the men were bowing, and her cousins curtseying to the countess and her companion collectively. The countess gasped, recovered, and eyed the speaker without any sign of affection. "My husband's ward, ma'am," she corrected, in a voice that seemed to discourage further mention of Hortensia.
As it was, during the weeks that he had lain helpless, his life attached to him by but the merest thread, the chance of betraying Lord Ostermore was gone, nor the circumstances being such as they were could Sir Richard Everard blame him that he had let it pass. Thus he knew peace; knew it as only those know it who have sustained unrest and can appreciate relief from it.
Should he or his agents approach Ostermore, in the meantime, it will be too late for us to take such measures as we have concerted. For to deliver up Ostermore then would entail the betrayal of others, which is not to be dreamt of. So you'll use dispatch." "If I do the thing at all, it shall be done to-morrow," answered Mr. Caryll. "If at all?" cried Sir Richard, frowning again. "If at all?"
"I am obeying the orders of my Lord Carteret, the Secretary of State," said Mr. Green. "I was to watch for a gentleman from France with letters for my Lord Ostermore. He had a messenger a week ago to tell him to look for such a visitor. He took the messenger, if you must know, and well, we induced him to tell us what was the message he had carried.
'Tis all an impudent lie a pack of lies!" cried Rotherby. "He's crafty as all the imps of hell." Mr. Caryll rose. "Here in the sight of God and by all that I hold most sacred, I swear that what I have said is true. I swear that Lord Ostermore your father was my father. I was born in France, in the year 1690, as I have papers upon me that will prove, which you may see, Rotherby."
"You fool!" cried she who until that hour had been Countess of Ostermore, turning fiercely upon Mr. Templeton. "You fool!" "Madam, this is not seemly," cried the second secretary, with awkward dignity. "Seemly, idiot?" she stormed at him.
"And my father's, too," answered Justin in a thick voice; "and the Earl of Ostermore is that same father." "The more sweetly shall your mother be avenged," cried the other, and again his eyes blazed with that unhealthy, fanatical light. "What fitter than the hand of that poor lady's son to pull your father down in ruins?" He laughed short and fiercely.
"Oh, you were right, Justin; right, and I was entirely wrong wickedly wrong. I should have left vengeance to God. He is wreaking it. Ostermore's whole life has been a punishment; his end will be a punishment. I understand it now. We do no wrong in life, Justin, for which in this same life payment is not exacted. Ostermore has been paying. I should have been content with that.
Caryll's mind at the moment that Lady Ostermore and her son might between them brew such mischief as might seriously hinder him from travelling, and he was very near the truth. For already her ladyship was closeted with Rotherby in her boudoir.
Then he crossed quickly to the desk, and Hortensia followed him. He sat down, and pulled out bodily the bottom drawer on the right inside of the upper part of the desk, as he had seen Lord Ostermore do that day, a little over a week ago. He thrust his hand into the opening, and felt along the sides for some moments in vain.
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