“Then,” said Bess, recovering her animation, “call you these men together, and tell them what I tell you. I mean to beguile Hugo Stein to Mr. Richard Egremont’s grave, and to keep him there the whole night through. ’Tis a small enough punishment—I misdoubt that he will much trouble himself—but ’tis the best I can do, and at least I can put him in a mortal rage, and that is better than nothing!”
Bess was dealing with persons of her own class then, and her plan of vengeance, which seemed to her so natural and so just, appeared also natural and just to them.
“I can very easy get him there,” continued Bess with a meaning look. “All I have to do is to send him a message from a woman and pay the messenger to say I am young and handsome, and Sir Hugo will come; for never did I see a scoundrel who would not rise to any sort of a bait.”
Hodge grinned at the prospect.
“You are right there, mistress,” he said. “I can find you a messenger quick enough, and ’twill not be necessary to bribe him to say you are young and handsome. Sir Hugo is at Egremont to-night. I saw him riding home not an hour ago.”
Hodge went out, and presently came back with a sharp-eyed boy. Bess, who had passed the interval sitting wearily upon the settle, her head on her hand, lifted her eyes as Hodge brought the boy forward.
“My lad,” she said, giving him a shilling, “go you to Egremont, and contrive to say to Sir Hugo that a lady wishes to see him at the willow bank by the Dark Pool at ten of the clock, and give him this handkerchief as a token.” She handed the boy a fine handkerchief with lace on it. “If he asks my name, you don’t know it.”
“Nobody have called your name afore me,” replied the lad, cunningly.
“And nobody will. If Sir Hugo asks what sort of a lady I am—”
“I’ll say you are young and monstrous handsome,” answered the boy, with a roguish smile.