"Lord Vincent, these outrages shall cost you your life!" exclaimed
Claudia, in the low, deep, stern key of concentrated passion.
"All in good time, my lady," sneered the viscount, commencing the humiliating search. He looked in the recess of the bay window; peeped behind curtains; opened closets: and finally drew a large easy-chair from the corner of the room.
"Pray, whom do you expect to find concealed in my apartment, my lord?" demanded Claudia, white with rage.
"My respectable valet, the good Mr. Frisbie. And here he is!" replied the viscount sarcastically.
And to Claudia's horror and amazement he drew the trembling wretch from his concealment and hurled him into the center of the room, where he stood with dangling arms and bending legs, pale and quaking, but whether with real or assumed fear Claudia could not tell.
"How came this fellow in my room?" she demanded, in consternation.
"Aye, sure enough! how did he come here?" sneered Lord Vincent.
Mrs. Dugald laughed.
Mrs. MacDonald raised both her hands in horror.
"Come! perhaps he'll tell us why he came here! Confess, you scoundrel! Say what brought you here!" exclaimed the viscount, suddenly changing his tone from cool irony to burning rage, as he seized and shook his valet.