They might applaud, or object, or interfere, but the drama was her very own. ‘What we have to find out is whether or not the wretched female is in fact Lord Charvill’s granddaughter. It was a night well-fitted to their enterprise, calm, still, and profoundly dark. Here was a terrific figure gnashing his teeth, and howling like a wild beast;—there a lover, with hands clasped together and eyes turned passionately upward. "Is it poison?" she asked. She stood up before him, smiling faintly. By degrees, his fears vanished, and hearing nothing, he grew calmer.
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