"Not so, Sir Rowland," returned Jonathan; "you are my prisoner. There was no one at all in this room, but through the half-open door of one of the small apartments that gave upon it she had a glimpse of two very young girls sitting at a littered table and writing briskly. "Don't scourge me," she cried, trying to hide herself in the farthest corner of the cell. At a little distance from the party, sat a tall, sinister-looking personage, with harsh inflexible features, a gaunt but muscular frame, and large bony hands. ‘Lord,’ Gerald uttered, his inexplicable annoyance evaporating.
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