” Annabel laughed gaily. Satisfied in this respect, he flung himself into a chair, for his iron frame seldom required the indulgence of a bed, and sought an hour's repose before he began the villanies of another day. Armed, however, with the implement he had so fortunately obtained, he did not despair of success. The stranger started at the touch, and spoke. “What’s wrong with having witchcraft books? Is she afraid that the Princeton Hill villagers will burn you at stake?” Lucy asked sarcastically. “Go on!” “You know—in Paris they coupled my name with some one’s—an Englishman’s. I didn't think. A sarcastic smile seemed to play upon the chief-taker's lips; and abashed at his own irresolution, the lad went on.
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