A woman touched him lightly on the arm, and smiled into his face. The flowers upon the mantel-shelf were withered and drooping—she had gathered them. ’ ‘Then what?’ demanded Lucilla in a hushed tone. He had not proceeded far when he was alarmed by the tramp of a horse, which seemed to be rapidly approaching, and he had scarcely time to leap the hedge and conceal himself behind a tree, when a tall man, enveloped in an ample cloak, with his hat pulled over his brows, rode by at full speed. “But it makes me feel inhuman,” he added. You’d make a good Devil.
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