The Star-Chamber, Volume 2 | Page 6

the question," rejoined Lord Roos gloomily; "I
have not come here to listen to sermons, and will brook no more
reproaches."
"I do not mean to reproach you, William," she returned meekly; "but
the thought of our dire offence rises perpetually before me. Would we
could undo what we have done!"
"I tell you it is too late," rejoined Lord Roos harshly.
At this moment Diego suddenly presented himself, and apologizing for
the abruptness of his entrance, accounted for it by saying that Sarah
Swarton besought a word with his Lordship. She brought a message, he

added, from Lady Roos, who was much worse, and not finding his
Lordship at his own residence had ventured to follow him to Exeter
House to deliver it.
"I will come to her anon," said Lord Roos carelessly.
"No, no; admit her at once, Diego," cried the Countess; "I would hear
what she has to say." And the next moment Sarah Swarton being
ushered into the room, she rushed up to her and eagerly demanded,
"How fares it with your lady? Is there any hope for her?"
"None whatever," replied Sarah, shaking her head sadly. "She is past all
chance of recovery."
"Then Heaven pardon me!" ejaculated the Countess, clasping her hands
together, and falling upon her knees.
Sarah Swarton gazed at her in astonishment; while Lord Roos, rushing
towards her, commanded her to rise.
"Take heed what you say and do, Countess," he whispered. "You will
excite this woman's suspicions."
"Why should your ladyship implore Heaven's pardon because my poor
dear lady is near her end?" inquired Sarah.
"I sue for it because I have caused her much affliction," replied the
Countess.
"Your message, Sarah--your message?" interposed Lord Roos. "What
have you to say to me?"
"My lady desires to see you once more before she expires, my lord,"
replied Sarah. "She would take leave of you; and--and--she has
something to impart to you. You will not refuse her last request?"
"He will not--he will not, I am sure," cried the Countess, seeing him
look irresolute.

"I did not expect to be seconded by you, my lady," observed Sarah, in
increasing surprise.
"Would that I, too, might see her and obtain her forgiveness!"
exclaimed the Countess, without heeding the remark.
"An idle wish, and not to be indulged," said Lord Roos.
A sudden idea appeared to strike Sarah, and she cried, "Your ladyship's
desire may possibly be gratified. My poor lady desires to part in peace
with all the world, even with those who have injured her. I will
communicate your wishes to her, and it may be she will consent to see
you."
"You shall have a reward well worthy of the service if you accomplish
it," said the Countess. "Hasten to her with all speed, my Lord, and I
will follow in my litter, ready to attend Sarah's summons."
"I like not the plan," rejoined Lord Roos. "You are wrong to go. Why
need you see her?"
"Why?" she answered, regarding him fixedly. "Because it may be some
little consolation to me afterwards."
"Then go alone," said Lord Roos savagely. "I will not accompany you."
"I do not ask you to accompany me, but to precede me," she replied.
"Now, mark me, my Lord," she added in a low, firm tone, "and be
assured I do not advance more than I will perform. If you refuse your
wife's dying request, I will go back with Sarah and confess all to her."
Lord Roos looked as if he could have annihilated her, and muttered a
terrible imprecation on her head.
"Threaten me--ay, and execute your threats hereafter if you will,"
continued the Countess in the same low decided tone, "but go you shall
now."
Her manner was so irresistible that Lord Roos was compelled to obey,

and he quitted the room without a word more, followed by Diego and
Sarah Swarton, the latter of whom signed to the Countess that she
might depend upon the fulfilment of her wishes.
They had not been gone many minutes before Lady Exeter entered her
litter, and wholly unattended by page or serving-man, except those in
charge of the conveyance, caused herself to be conveyed to Sir Thomas
Lake's lodgings in Whitehall.

CHAPTER IV.
How the forged Confession was produced.
Summoning up all his firmness for the interview with his lady, Lord
Roos entered her chamber, attended by Sarah Swarton, and beheld her
propped up by pillows, bearing evident marks in her countenance of the
severe sufferings she had endured. She was emaciated in frame, and
almost livid in complexion; hollow-cheeked and hollow-eyed; but still
with a look of unaltered affection for him.
Having fulfilled her mission, Sarah left them alone together.
He took the thin fingers extended towards him, and pressed them to his
lips, but scarcely