Lucy felt the hairs on her neck rise. In her little sitting-room she turned on the electric light and looked around half fearfully. Poor little one. He might have supposed the fellow would be eager to be rid of the tale, for that he might have longer to enjoy the amenities of the Triumphal Chariot where the meeting had been appointed. He pressed the bloody wrist into her mouth, and she though she could not feel it or 72 control it, she knew she was being made to swallow. As soon as he was gone, Jonathan went up stairs to the audience-chamber; and, sitting down, appeared for some time buried in reflection. " And, as he spoke, he took up a sheet of paper, and hastily traced a few lines upon it.
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