“Madame, ’tis a matter of importance and—er—”
She stood debating whether she should call her governess or deny herself to her visitor, but before she could do the one or the other footsteps came along the hallway and the lackey stepped aside as Monsieur Mornay entered.
Mistress Clerke turned a pallid face towards him. She stepped back a pace or two, her hands upon her breast, her eyes glowing with fear. Monsieur Mornay turned to the lackey, who still stood doubtful upon the threshold. The look he gave the man sent him through the doorway and hall, where the sound of his footsteps mingled with those of others without. Mistress Clerke cast a fleeting glance towards the boudoir, but Monsieur Mornay had taken his stand where he could command both entrances to the room. She scorned to cry aloud for assistance, nor would she risk his interference by trying to pass him. He read her easily. She made no motion to leave or speak to him, but stood against the wall of the fireplace, her muscles rigid and tense with fear and her eyes regarding him with all the calmness she could command.
“Madame,” he said, solemnly, looking out at her from under his dark brows, “before God, I mean you no harm!” He said it as though it were a sacrament. “In half an hour or less I shall be gone from this room, from your life forever. But you must hear what I have to say.” He paused. “No, no, madame. It is not that which you suppose—you need have no fear of me. It is not that—I swear it!”
Mistress Barbara moved uneasily.
“I pray that you will be seated, madame. No? As you please. What I have to say is not short. Shall I begin?”
“’Twere sooner over,” she said, hoarsely.
He bowed politely. “I will endeavor to be brief. Many years ago, your great-grandfather went to Florida with the expedition of Jean Ribault. Perhaps you have been told of the massacre by the Spanish and how the Seigneur de Bresac escaped to France? Merci! You also doubtless know his and your grandfather’s great hatred of the Spanish people as the result of this massacre? Eh bien. Your grandfather told his three daughters—one of whom was your mother—that if one of them married a Spaniard he would refuse her a part of his fortune and deny her as a child of his—”