Arrived at the audience-chamber, he set down the light upon a stand, threw open the door, and announced in a loud voice, but with the perfect intonation of the person he represented,—"Sir Rowland Trenchard. Slowly, he drew back his head and looked into her face. The features were indistinct, but was that not a halo of white about it? And the dark shadow below, was that a cloak, or the habit of a nun? Skirting the dancing, from which he had taken a breather—not from lack of energy, but to escape the inanities of the young ladies he had partnered—Gerald made his way to a side door in the saloon and opened it. “But Sebastian! I need them!” He smiled, not a smile of comfort, but a smile of terrible menace. ’ ‘Eh bien? And so?’ ‘He says as how he’s going to take you with him to France with his new wife. ” “Your priestess,” whispered Ann Veronica, softly. His face clouded with anger. Lost from all protection, all her family dead—as are mine.
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