“Surely, sir, you'll not terrify my lady! Surely, Sir Dudley—”
Despite her cries, for they had now become such, Broughton pushed her rudely from the spot, and entered the room.
Great was his astonishment to find Lady Broughton, whom he had left so ill, not only up, but dressed as if for the promenade; her face was flushed, and her eye restless and feverish; and her whole manner exhibited the highest degree of excitement.
Broughton threw down his hat upon the table, and then, returning to the door, locked and bolted it.
“Good Heavens, Dudley!” exclaimed she, in a voice of terror, “what has happened?”
“Everything!” said he; “utter ruin! The whole crew of creditors are in full chase after me, and in a few hours we shall be stripped of all we possess.”
She drew a long full breath as she listened; and had her husband been in a mood to mark it, he might have seen how lightly his terrible tidings affected her.
“I must fly! Taperton—he's in the carriage below—says France, at least for some weeks, till we can make some compromise or other; but I have one debt that must be acquitted before I leave.”
There was a terrible significance in the words, and she was sick to the heart as she asked, “What, and to whom?”
“Radchoffsky!” cried he, savagely; “that scoundrel whom I trusted like a brother!”