"I will obey."
"That is well, but for the rest, thou knowest very well my will, and wherefore thou camest hither."
She shuddered.
"Still," continued her brother, "if thou wilt hear it again I will repeat our plan, our plan, thou mindest, Diane, which thou helpedst me to form so cleverly at Pontivy."
"I had not known him then," she cried with a little sob, "and—and he loves me well."
"So much the better; the less chance of suspicion falling upon us. See, child, have done with these foolish vapourings, and mark how all falls in with our purpose. The Sieur de Mereac loves thee—a love which he will doubtless in time extend in some measure to me, thy brother, seeing that thou hast set his mind at rest concerning the affair at St Aubin. All then are at peace and filled with content, saving only Mademoiselle de Mereac, who, for some unknown reason, is consumed with hatred and jealousy against her brother's beloved friends, a hatred which, indeed, also estranges her from her brother. Suddenly, without warning, the Sieur de Mereac falls ill, wasting away, in some strange and inexplicable sickness, till in due time it is apparent that death claims him for a comrade. A whisper is rumoured throughout the house coupling the name of Gwennola de Mereac with witchcraft; the whisper grows to an outcry; proofs of guilt are discovered in the maiden's chamber; she is condemned to death, but it is too late to save her ill-fated brother, who perishes, a victim to an execrated sister's malevolence, and Guillaume de Coray, his cousin, reigns in his stead over the broad lands of Mereac. Voilà, my sister, how charming and how simple a history! And the means, the means," he emphasized, "of its fulfilment lie here."
As he spoke he handed her a small phial containing a dark liquid, watching her, as the cat does the mouse, as she took it in her trembling hand.
"You comprehend?" he asked softly.
"I comprehend."
He smiled pensively.