Clementina

"Thus your double plot--to set the King against the Princess, and the

Princess against the King--doubly failed."

"Go on," said Lady Featherstone, moistening her dry lips. Wogan told her

how from the little sitting-room on the ground-floor he had seen the

King and Whittington cross the lawn; he described his interview with

the King, and how he had come quietly down the stairs.

"I went into the garden," he went on, "and touched Whittington on the

elbow. I told him just what I have explained to you. I said, 'You are a

coward, a liar, a slanderer of women,' and I beat him on the mouth."

Lady Featherstone uttered a cry and drew herself into an extraordinary

crouching attitude, with her eyes blazing steadily at him. He thought

she meant to spring at him; he looked at that hand upon her heart to see

whether it held a weapon hidden in the fold of her bosom.

"Go on," she said; "and he?"

"He answered me in the strangest quiet way imaginable. 'You insulted

Lady Featherstone at Ohlau, Mr. Wogan,' said he, 'one evening when she

hid behind your curtain. It was a very delicate piece of drollery, no

doubt. But I shall be glad to show you another, view of it.' It is

strange how that had rankled in his thoughts. I liked him for it,--upon

my soul, I did,--though it was the only thing I liked in him."

"Go on," said Lady Featherstone. Mr. Wogan's likes or dislikes were of

no more interest to her than the failure of her effort to hinder the

marriage.

"We went to the bottom of the garden where there is a little square of

lawn hedged in with myrtle-trees. The night was very dark, so we

stripped to our shirts. From the waist upwards we were visible to each

other as a vague glimmer of white, and thus we fought, foot to foot,

among the myrtle-trees. We could not see so much as our swords unless

they clashed more than usually hard, and a spark struck from them. We

fought by guesswork and feel, and in the end luck served me. I drove my

sword through his chest until the hilt rang upon his breast-bone."

Then just a movement from Lady Featherstone as though she drew up her

feet beneath her.

"He lived for perhaps five minutes. He was in great distress lest harm

should come to you; and since there was no one but his enemy to whom he

could speak, why, he spoke to his enemy. I promised him, madam, that

with his death the story should be closed, if you left Italy within the

week."