He seemed inexorable, and inscrutable as fate itself. As Jonathan scarcely expected a more satisfactory result, he made no comment; but, ordering Quilt to continue his search, and not to return until he had found the fugitive, called Abraham Mendez into the house, and shut the door. “Beats me. Ann Veronica said nothing. To-night the subtle suggestiveness of those few daring lines, fascinating in their very simplicity, the head thrown back, the half-closed eyes—the inner meaning of the great artist seemed to come to him with a rush. He could imagine it even if he could not feel it. “Miss Ellicot!” Brendon echoed. “Hola Marteen!” She exclaimed cheerfully.
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