“I hope that Mr. Annabel half filled her glass with wine, and taking a little folded packet from her plate, shook the contents into it. He had absorbed her in a single glance, and was now defining her as he worked. Why was he there? why did the tempter dare to invade that sacred spot! She could not answer her own questions, but vague fearful suspicions passed through her mind. Her faithful servant struggled, with her assistance, to rise. Melusine recognised the burly form of Captain Roding’s sergeant. The militia were in already. “Why don’t they wait?” he added. —'I see how it'll be,' observed Alsatia, 'everybody'll pay his debts, and only think of such a state of things as that. . ‘But do you think I can blame you for this, Marthe?’ ‘I blame myself. He’s been near it once or twice already.
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