"In Heaven's name, hush!" replied Agnes, with a shudder.
"Let that be fresh in your memory. Move not a footstep, whatever you may hear," added he, in the same tone as before.
"I will not—I will not." And Agnes departed.
Luke felt some wavering in his resolution when he found himself alone with the lady, whose calm, collected, yet haughty demeanor, as she resumed her seat, prepared for his communication, could not fail to inspire him with a certain degree of awe. Not unconscious of her advantage, nor slow to profit by it, Lady Rookwood remained perfectly silent, with her eyes steadily fixed upon his face, while his embarrassment momentarily increased. Summoning, at length, courage sufficient to address her, and ashamed of his want of nerve, he thus broke forth:
"When I entered this room, you asked my name and object. As to the first, I answer to the same designation as your ladyship. I have long borne my mother's name. I now claim my father's. My object is, the restitution of my rights."
"Soh!—it is as I suspected," thought Lady Rookwood, involuntarily casting her large eyes down. "Do I hear you rightly?" exclaimed she, aloud; "your name is——"
"Sir Luke Rookwood. As my father's elder born; by right of his right to that title."
If a glance could have slain him, Luke had fallen lifeless at the lady's feet. With a smile of ineffable disdain, she replied, "I know not why I hesitate to resent this indignity, even for an instant. But I would see how far your audacity will carry you. The name you bear is Bradley?"
"In ignorance I have done so," replied Luke. "I am the son of her whose maiden name was Bradley. She was——"
"'Tis false—I will not hear it—she was not," cried Lady Rookwood, her vehemence getting the master of her prudence.