So, bloody but unbeaten, weak and spent but undaunted, he waited for the Wastrel to spring up. It made me wake up, and there I lay thinking of you, spending your nights up here all alone, and no one to look after you. "It is the fiend!" she exclaimed, recoiling. Left alone, Jonathan lighted a lamp, and, opening the trap-door, descended the secret stairs. Wood, Sir," he added, with much emotion, "is one of the best of men, and would be the happiest, were it not that—" and he hesitated. Annabel had spoken calmly enough and steadily, but his brain refused at first to accept the full meaning of her words.
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