This done, Edgeworth Bess, who watched her opportunity, slipped out of the Lodge. His face was aquiline but sweet, the years had not yet taken the blush from his cheeks and his lips were similarly rubefacient. “Annabel;” he moaned. She looked paler than ever; but her countenance, though bewildered, did not exhibit the alarm which might naturally have been anticipated from the strange and perplexing scene presented to her view. “Why come after me after all these years, Sebastianus? Haven’t you found any sycophants to convert, any nubile young nymphets to bring into the cannibal flock?” “Why should I do that if there is still the chance of you?” “What if there could be no chance of me? How do you know you can have me?” “I see your game. He saw it in book-covers, on the stage. Suppose our proper place is a shrine. It was late before Jonathan ventured to his own house, where he remained up all night, and kept his janizaries and other assistants well armed.
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