Gerald at once lowered his voice to that intimate level again, and leaned towards her. Don't be afraid, man,—off with it. ” They returned to the crypt. The drawers at the moment were too busy to attend to her, and she would have seized the opportunity of examining, unperceived, the assemblage within, through a little curtained window that overlooked the adjoining chamber, if an impediment had not existed in the shape of Baptist Kettleby, whose portly person entirely obscured the view. Sebastian administered bitter tonics to her, fluids she could not taste with her swollen tongue. "It is the fiend!" she exclaimed, recoiling.
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