"I tell you I know this for a fact. The Russian forces in the Crimea have been continually reinforced for weeks past. I know it; I saw them. I was there, in their midst, not many days ago. Besides, I am behind the scenes, deep in their counsels. Rely upon it, the allies are in imminent danger. You will hear soon of another and far greater fight, after which it will be all over with your friends!"
"Well, well! my friends, as you call them, must look to themselves. Still, this is mere talk of what may be. Tell me what has actually occurred. There has been a battle: are many slain? General Wilders—is he safe?"
"You need have no apprehensions for your dear husband, madam; his command was not engaged. The chief brunt of the fight fell upon the cavalry, who were cut to pieces."
"What of young Wilders? Hugo Wilders, I mean—Lord Lydstone's brother."
"His name is returned amongst the killed. It will be a blow for the noble house of Essendine, and not the only one."
"What do you mean?"
"The other brother, young Anastasius, whom you are going to see, cannot survive, I hear."
"Poor young fellows!" said Mrs. Wilders, with a well-assumed show of feeling.
"You pity them? I honour your sentiments, madam; but, nevertheless, they can be spared, especially by you."