"Why came she here?" "She could not resist the hand of fate which drew her hither," replied Sir Cecil, mournfully. ‘Does Charvill know that this Melusine of yours is here?’ The question distracted Gerald. A strange betrothal!—the primal idea of which was escape! The girl, intent upon abrogating for ever all legal rights of the father in the daughter, of rendering innocuous the thing she had now named the Terror: the boy, seeking selfcrucifixion in expiation of his transgression, changing a peccadillo into damnation! It was easy for Ruth to surrender to the idea, for she believed she was loved; and in gratitude it was already her determination to give this boy her heart's blood, drop by drop, if he wanted it. She drifted northward from the Strand, and came on some queer and dingy quarters. ‘Very well,’ he said, lowering his own weapon. He never retires to rest till daybreak—if at all. More strange stories were told of it than of any other house in London.
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