"Will you explain yourself, Quentin?" cried Eliza, somewhat impatiently. "I see that you have learnt a dreadful secret: but wherefore keep me thus in suspense?"
"Pardon me, madam—forgive me," said Quentin, "I ought not to trifle with you! But, ah! madam, what will you think—how will you act, when you learn that she for whom you are so generously striving to combat the wicked plots of Gilbert Vernon,—that Lady Ravensworth, in a word, is—is——"
"Is what?" said Eliza, hastily.
"A murderess!" returned Quentin, shuddering from head to foot as he uttered the appalling word.
"Just heaven! what do I hear?" exclaimed Eliza, the colour forsaking her cheeks. "Oh! no—no: it cannot be! Recall that assertion, Quentin; for you are labouring under some strange delusion!"
"Would that I were, madam," said the valet, in a mournful tone; "but, alas! I heard too much—and that much too plainly—to entertain a doubt! Yes, Mrs. Beaufort—that lady to whom you have devoted yourself, is the murderess of poor Lydia Hutchinson!"
"Oh! this is indeed a house of crime, Quentin!" exclaimed Eliza Sydney, now greatly excited. "But tell me how you made this fearful discovery!"
"I will endeavour to collect my thoughts sufficiently to explain it all, madam," said the valet. "You must know, that about two hours ago, the miscreant Tidkins brought me a note, written by his master, and to be sent up to my lady. To this note a verbal message was returned that my lady would see Mr. Vernon in an hour in the drawing-room."
"Yes—that interview took place with my entire concurrence," observed Eliza.
"Obedient to your instructions, madam," continued Quentin, "I kept a constant watch upon Tidkins; and when the hour for the meeting between my lady and Mr. Vernon approached, I saw Tidkins accompany his master to the drawing-room. This circumstance struck me to be so singular, that I concealed myself in an ante-room, separated only by folding doors from the saloon itself. It appears that Tidkins had placed himself behind the screen; for, after a few words of little consequence had passed between my lady and her brother-in-law, the latter left the apartment—and Tidkins burst forth from his hiding-place! Oh! madam, never shall I forget the scene which followed! By means of the key-hole I could perceive, as well as hear, all that occurred in the drawing-room. With the most insolent familiarity did Tidkins address my lady; and, though for a time she steadily denied all participation in the murder of Lydia Hutchinson, at length she acknowledged it—she admitted it!"