"But where the devil are you going to, Moreton?" he inquired; "you are not going to leave me alone with this fellow, are you?"
"Only for a short time, Mr. Wittingham," answered Captain Moreton, in his easy, nonchalant way, "not long enough for him to eat you, or for you to eat him. You know what obstinate devils these women are; and I have got to do with the most pigheaded of the whole race. The fact is, Wittingham, we have got in our hands, if we do but use it properly, the means of having full revenge upon one or two good friends of ours; amongst the rest, that fellow, who, as you ought to remember, was second to Captain Hayward in his duel with you, Mr. Beauchamp, he calls himself."
"Why, I hear he has turned out a Lord Lenham, and is going to marry old Sir John's pretty daughter."
"Exactly so," answered Captain Moreton, drily; "but if he doesn't mind, his wedding tour will be a different one to what he expects; however, I have the greatest difficulty in preventing my fair friend Charlotte from spoiling the whole business; for she is in one of her violent fits, and then she gets as mad as a March hare. She and I must act together; but I must not appear in the business; for you see there are two or three little things that the people might bring against me. I have resolved, therefore, to get over to Winterton, till to-morrow's work is blown over; for she will be present to witness the marriage, do what I can to stop her. As the mischief would have it, however, I threatened to blow the whole matter up, if she would not submit to management; and so she will not let me out of her sight, threatening at the same time to cut my throat, or some pretty little thing of that kind by way of making herself a pleasant companion. However, she must go with me, that's clear, and come over in a chaise tomorrow to the wedding. If she does not spoil all, and this man here can be kept in, we have got them completely in our power."
"Why, what in fortune's name can he have to do with Lord Lenham's marriage?" asked Harry Wittingham.
"I don't know, exactly," answered Captain Moreton, musing gravely; "but I have a good many suspicions about him, which it won't do to mention just yet. All I ask, is to have him kept in here, till after the marriage is over; and you will have nothing further to do with it, than to keep the key of the room and prevent any of the girls from going in. By so doing you will punish him ten times more than if you licked him for an hour. I know you are not given to be afraid of any thing; but, if people should make a fuss about it, it is very easy to say you did it, to punish him for knocking you down the way he did."
Harry Wittingham smiled; and the moment after Captain Moreton continued: "Here she comes, by Jove; I'll get out of the way for the present, and cram some meat down that fellow's throat without untying him. You'll stay, Wittingham, won't you? I shall be back to-morrow night."
"Why, I must stay, I suppose," said Harry Wittingham; "for good old Dame Billiter thinks I shall be here till to-morrow night; and I expect her to send me up some money, if she can get it."
Captain Moreton did not wait for any thing further than this assent, but disappeared by the right-hand door; and the moment after, the fair lady, whom I have so often mentioned, entered by the other. Her face was somewhat redder than usual; but that was the only sign of agitating passions that could be discovered in her demeanour. Her step was calm, stealthy, and cat-like; her eyes looked cold and flat, with a meaningless sort of glassy glare about them, as if purposely covered by a semi-opaque film to veil what was passing beneath. She looked slowly round the room, without taking any notice of Mr. Wittingham, though she had not seen him that day; and, walking round to the mock-rosewood sofa, she sat down in silence and took some papers out of the drawer of the table. Harry Wittingham wished her good morning, and addressed to her some commonplace observation, to which she replied with a forced smile, and then busied herself with her papers again. When Captain Moreton re-entered the room about a quarter of an hour afterwards, a sudden fierce gleam came into her eyes and passed away again; but she uttered not a word; and, dinner being announced soon after, she took Mr. Wittingham's arm and walked into the small dining-room. When the meal was over, and she left the gentlemen to their wine, she passed by Captain Moreton's chair, and bending down her head, she said in a low voice, but loud enough for Mr. Wittingham to hear:
"Remember, Moreton, remember! You know me!"