In a minute or two Magdalen Graeme entered the apartment, dressed as
we have described her at the revel, but with her muffler thrown back,
and all affectation of disguise. She was attended by two guards, of
whose presence she did not seem even to be conscious, and who followed
her with an air of embarrassment and timidity, which was probably
owing to their belief in her supernatural power, coupled with the
effect produced by her bold and undaunted demeanour. She confronted
the Lady of Lochleven, who seemed to endure with high disdain the
confidence of her air and manner.
"Wretched woman!" said the Lady, after essaying for a moment to bear
her down, before she addressed her, by the stately severity of her
look, "what was that powder which thou didst give to a servant of this
house, by name Jasper Dryfesdale, that he might work out with it some
slow and secret vengeance?--Confess its nature and properties, or, by
the honour of Douglas, I give thee to fire and stake before the sun is
lower!"
"Alas!" said Magdalen Graeme in reply, "and when became a Douglas or a
Douglas's man so unfurnished in his revenge, that he should seek them
at the hands of a poor and solitary woman? The towers in which your
captives pine away into unpitied graves, yet stand fast on their
foundation--the crimes wrought in them have not yet burst their
vaults asunder--your men have still their cross-bows, pistolets, and
daggers--why need you seek to herbs or charms for the execution of
your revenges?"
"Hear me, foul hag," said the Lady Lochleven,--"but what avails
speaking to thee?--Bring Dryfesdale hither, and let them be confronted
together.
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