Not a word was uttered by the assemblage; but a hush of expectation reigned throughout. Her companion was a portly handsome man, also dressed in a full suit of the deepest mourning, with the finest of lace at his bosom and wrists, and a sword in a black sheath by his side. “You must fetch a doctor,” she said. Gerald raised his cockaded hat, and smiled. Sulphurous poisons assaulted her nostrils as she threw the stone to one side of its resting place. Lord Charvill champed upon an invisible bit for a moment or two, closing the gap between himself and the girl, and muttering the name to himself in an overwrought sort of way. ’ ‘Now why didn’t I make that connection?’ Gerald asked of the air in a tone of regret. "Would you expose yourself to fresh risk? If it hadn't been for her you wouldn't have been placed in your late jeopardy.
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