“Which they dared not have done, had you not lied to them first.”
“Sir!” shouted the marquis, with all the voice he had left—“O God, have mercy! I cannot punish the scoundrel.”
“The scoundrel is the man who lies, my lord.”
“Were I anywhere else——”
“There would be no good in telling you the truth, my lord. You showed her to the world as a woman over whom you had prevailed, and not as the honest wife she was. What kind of a lie was that, my lord? Not a white one, surely?”
“You are a damned coward to speak so to a man who cannot even turn on his side to curse you for a base hound. You would not dare it but that you know I cannot defend myself.”
“You are right, my lord; your conduct is indefensible.”
“By heaven! if I could but get this cursed leg under me, I would throw you out of the window.”
“I shall go by the door, my lord. While you hold by your sins, your sins will hold by you. If you should want me again, I shall be at your lordship’s command.”
He rose and left the room, but had not reached his cottage before Malcolm overtook him, with a second message from his master. He turned at once, saying only, “I expected it.”