This deportment, however, it presently appeared,
was only assumed. While placing a flask of wine on the table, the man
said in a low tone--"I am a friend of Sir Jocelyn. Constrain yourself,
or you will betray me. Sir Francis is watching us from an eyelet-hole in
the door. Drink of this," he added, pouring wine into a goblet.
"Is it medicated?" she asked in a whisper, regarding him anxiously.
"It is supposed to be so," he answered, with a scarcely perceptible
smile. "Drink, I say. If you do not, you will mar my project. 'Tis
well!" he added, as she raised the goblet to her lips. "A few words must
explain my design. Sir Francis will fancy you have swallowed a
love-potion. Take care not to undeceive him, for on that belief rests
your safety. When he presents himself, as he will do shortly, do not
repulse him as heretofore. Smile on him as kindly as you can; and though
the task of duping him may be difficult and distasteful to you, shrink
not from it. The necessity of the case justifies the deception. If he
presses his suit, no longer refuse him your hand."
"I cannot do it," murmured Aveline, with a shudder.
"You MUST," rejoined Luke Hatton--for it was he--"or incur worse
dangers. Provoked by your resistance, Sir Francis has lost all patience,
and is determined to accomplish his purpose. Knowing my skill as a
brewer of philters, he has applied to me, and I have promised him aid.
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