‘Something wrong, madame?’ Her fan came up swiftly, hiding the lower part of her face. He stood by her side, and he suffered her hands to rest in his. “We can be alone?” She inquired. Anna saw it, and for the first time found herself trembling. The image of Major Alderley came into her mind. He did not so much cut into this conversation as loom over it, for he was a tall, if rather studiously stooping, man. He wore a French military undress of the period, with high jack-boots, and a laced hat; and, though his attire indicated no particular rank, he had completely the air of a person of distinction. By this time, the door was unlocked, and drawing his sword, Quilt entered the cell. Standing on tiptoe, on a joint-stool, placed upon the bench, with his back to the door, and a clasp-knife in his hand, this youngster, instead of executing his appointed task, was occupied in carving his name upon a beam, overhead.
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