"And then I followed to see him shot." She coughed, laughed, and sat up.
"My God!" said Honoria, staring at her mistress.
The Countess thrust her fingers through her damp hair.
"Marius was there, that is why I am speaking of it. You can tell them afterwards."
"I do not understand," cried the maid. "Are you sane, my lady?"
"I want to say this," smiled the Countess, holding her head. "It becomes so difficult to say anything. Sir Francis fired into the air. Why are men such fools? I went to see him shot!"
"You accuse yourself of murder," said Honoria.
"When my lord's pistol clicked uselessly," continued my lady, "they thought it was Marius's doing—at least, my lord did. No one saw me. I was standing at the top of a little rise among the bushes. How it had rained! Now was my revenge, I thought. But useless, useless! And they must know."
"Ye are mad!" muttered Honoria.
The Countess caught up some of the letters lying before her and began to tear them across; but her fingers failed her, the pieces dropped from her grasp and her hands sank into her lap.