"You have but to command," he cried, "and I will obey."
"This is the count's address," she said. "Go into his rooms; you will find there an ivory casket; he keeps the letters there; he told me so."
"I will do it," he said, quietly.
A beautiful light came into her eyes.
"I knew you would save me, Basil," she said, tenderly. "When will you do it?"
"I will make my first essay tonight. I shall not rest again until it is done."
"Go to his rooms," she said; "ask for him; if they tell you he is not in, say you will wait for him; then, while you are in the room, open the casket, take out the letters, destroy them at once, and send word to me when it is done. Do not stop to think whether I am right, whether it is the better plan, but do it at once, because I have said so."
"I will do it," he replied. Then she saw a shadow fall over his face. "There is nothing really in them, I suppose, Lady Lisle?"
"Nothing," she said, "but the cry of a woman's breaking heart! Enough to ruin me, should my husband ever come to know it."
"That he never shall; they shall be destroyed. If I die for it, they shall be destroyed."