Her first orders were to summon the rest of her servants to make immediate preparations for her departure for Lancashire. The vestry was perhaps the only room in the place, except her allotted curtained off portion of the dormitory chamber that served for her cell—and she could not scandalise the nuns by having a man in there, be he never so much a servant—where Melusine could be sure of privacy. The horror of those few minutes was still with her. While he was meditating flight in this way, and tossing about on the straw, he chanced upon an old broken and rusty fork. “Why should one pretend?” she whispered. “Good-bye, John,” she said simply. That terrible laughter, just before his senses had left him! Why? Here was a word that volleyed at her from all directions, numbed and bewildered her: the multiple echoes of her own first utterance of the word. ’ ‘Truly?’ asked Melusine, warmth lighting her bosom. The only circumstance which served to awaken a darker feeling in his breast was, that his implacable foe Jonathan Wild had survived the wound inflicted by Blueskin, and was slowly recovering. His appetite was perfectly Gargantuan. For a moment her heart seemed to stop beating. This—all this swamps them. She made no answer, and for a time he debated some problems with himself. I always wondered why he bought my mother's pearls so readily. "Heaven have mercy on his soul!" ejaculated Wood.
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