My lord went out to the coach and brought the Countess in, with a great show of reverence; and for three-quarters of an hour they were closeted together in his room. I took advantage of this to retire upstairs, and had been wiser had I stayed there, or better still, slipped out at the back. But a craving came on me to see Monterey again, and with the knowledge I now had, ascertain if she really was my old mistress. This drew me to the hall again, where, the crowd being great, and the servants taken up with teasing the Countess's parrot and blackamoors, I managed to avoid observation, and at the same time see what I wanted. The woman who had once been all the world to me--and of whom I could not now think without a tender regret, directed, not to her, but to the state of blissful, dawning passion, of which she had been the cause, and whereof no man is twice capable--was still handsome in a coarse fashion, and when seen at a distance. I could not deny that. But if I desired revenge, I had it; for not only was her complexion gone, so that her good looks vanished when the viewer approached, but her lips had grown thin, and her face hard, with the indescribable hardness which speaks of past sin long grown bitter--and an hourly, daily recognition that the wage of sin is death.
Presently, while Mr. Martin was pressing his civilities on her, and I, from a corner near the door through which I had let Mary escape, was curiously reading her countenance, the door of my lord's room opened, and the Countess came out, supported on the one side by the Duke's arm, on the other by her great ebony cane. The servants hurried to form two lines; and I suppose curiosity led me to press nearer than was prudent, or her eyes were of peculiar sharpness; or perhaps she looked for me, and had I not been there would have called for me. At any rate, she had not moved three steps towards her coach before her gaze, roving along the line of servants, alighted on me; and she stood.
"I'll have that rascal!" she cried in her high, shrill voice--and she pointed at me with her cane, and stood. "He looks as if butter would not melt in his mouth, but if he is not a lad of wax, call me a street slut! Hark you, my man; you come with me. Bid him, Shrewsbury!"
My lord, his face flushing, spoke low, and seemed to make demur; but she persisted.
"Odd's life; you make me sick!" she cried irritably. "You will not this, and you fancy that! The servants---- Go to for a fool! In my time master was master, and if any blabbed, man or maid, it was strip and whip! But now--do you quarrel with me, or do you not?"
The Duke shrugged his shoulders, and smiled uneasily. "Times are somewhat changed, madam," he said.
"Ay, by our lord, they are," she cried, swearing roundly. "And why? Because there are no men nowadays, but mealy-mouthed Josephs, like that trembler yonder, whose heart is in his boots because I want him carry a message." And she pointed to me with her long cane, while her head quivered with excitement and age. "Sort him out; sort him out and send him with me; or we quarrel, my lord."
"Well, madam, your will is law in this house," the Duke said; "but----"
"But no lies!" she cried. "D'ye send him."
My lord bowed reluctantly. "Go," he said, looking at me.