upon her, and insisted upon staying under such strange and awful circumstances.
The Count of Morven came a few weeks after, and remained some days with the countess. They were ceremonious and polite until they had a moment to retire from before people, when the countess changed her cold disdain to a cordial and familiar address.
"And now, my dear Morven," she exclaimed, as soon as they were unobserved—"and now, my dear Morven, that we are not seen, tell me, what have you been doing with yourself?"
"Why, I have been in some trouble. I never had gold that would stay by me. You know my hand was always open."
"The old complaint again."
"No; but having come to the end of my store, I began to grow serious."
"Ah, Morven!' said the countess, reproachfully.
"Well, never mind; when my purse is low my spirits sink, as the mercury does with the cold. You used to say my spirits were mercurial—I think they were."
"Well, what did you do?"
"Oh, nothing."
"Was that what you were about to tell me?" inquired the countess.
"Oh, dear, no. You recollect the Italian quack of whom I bought the drug you gave to the count, and which put an end to his days—he wanted more money. Well, as I had no more to spare, I could spare no more to him, and he turned vicious, and threatened. I threatened, too, and he knew I was fully able and willing to perform any promise I might make to him on that score. I endeavoured to catch him, as he had already began to set people off on the suspicious and marvellous concerning me, and if I could have come across him, I would have laid him very low indeed."
"And you could not find him?"
"No, I could not."
"Well, then, I will tell you where he is at this present moment."
"You?"
"Yes, I."
"I can scarcely credit my senses at what you say," said Count Morven. "My worthy doctor, you are little better than a candidate for divine honours. But where is he?"
"Will you promise to be guided by me?" said the countess.
"If you make it a condition upon which you grant the information, I must."
"Well, then, I take that as a promise."
"You may. Where—oh, where is he?"
"Remember your promise. Your doctor is at this moment in this castle."
"This castle?"
"Yes, this castle."
"Surely there must be some mistake; it is too much fortune at once."
"He came here for the same purpose he went to you."
"Indeed!"
"Yes, to get more money by extortion, and a promise to poison anybody I liked."
"D—n! it is the offer he made to me, and he named you."
"He named you to me, and said I should be soon tired of you."
"You have caged him?"
"Oh, dear, no; he has a suite of apartments in the eastern tower, where he passes for a philosopher, or a wizard, as people like best."
"How?"
"I have given him leave there."
"Indeed!"
"Yes; and what is more amazing is, that he is to aid me in poisoning you when I have become tired of you."
"This is a riddle I cannot unravel; tell me the solution."
"Well, dear, listen—he came to me and told me of something I already knew, and demanded money and a residence for his convenience, and I have granted him the asylum."
"You have?"
"I have."
"I see; I will give him an inch or two of my Andrea Ferrara."
"No—no."
"Do you countenance him?"
"For a time. Listen—we want men in the mines; my late husband sent very few to them of late years, and therefore they are getting short of men there."
"Aye, aye."
"The thing will be for you to feign ignorance of the man, and then you will be able to get him seized, and placed in the mines, for such men as he are dangerous, and carry poisoned weapons."
"Would he not be better out of the world at once; there would be no escape, and no future contingencies?"
"No—no. I will have no more lives taken; and he will be made useful; and, moreover, he will have time to reflect upon the mistake he had made in threatening me."
"He was paid for the job, and he had no future claim. But what about the child?"
"Oh, he may remain for some time longer here with us."
"It will be dangerous to do so," said the count; "he is now ten years old, and there is no knowing what may be done for him by his relatives."
"They dare not enter the gates of this castle Morven."
"Well, well; but you know he might have travelled the same road as his father, and all would be settled."
"No more lives, as I told you; but we can easily secure him some other way, and we shall be equally as free from him and them."
"That is enough—there are dungeons, I know, in this castle, and he can be kept there safe enough."
"He can; but that is not what I propose. We can put him into the mines and confine him as a lunatic."
"Excellent!"
"You see, we must make those mines more productive somehow or other; they would be so, but the count would not hear of it; he said it was so inhuman, they were so destructive of life."
"Paha! what were the mines intended for if not for use?"
"Exactly—I often said so, but he always put a negative to it."
"We'll make use of an affirmative, my dear countess, and see what will be the result in a change of policy. By the way, when will our marriage be celebrated?"
"Not for some months."
"How, so long? I am impatient."
"You must restrain
