"It's all over," groaned Wood, "and perhaps it's as well her senses are gone. But tell me how have you escaped from the confinement in which you were placed—come and sit by me—here—upon the bed—give me your hand—and tell me all about it. ‘He lacked moral fibre, did Nicholas. But in that case, why the raging jealousy about Madame having taken her place. —'It's all up with us,' says he; 'they've taken away our charter. How long wilt thou forget me, O Lord? for ever? How long wilt thou hide thy face from me? She came upon the Song of Songs—which had been pasted down in the Enschede Bible—the burning litany of love; and from time to time she intoned some verse of tender lyric beauty. "As yet," pursued the stranger, "Sir Montacute had placed no limit to his son's expenditure. She seemed to grow more beautiful to him and not the opposite. No, not one little bit. I wish very much that you had written before leaving Paris. She smiled and started for the stairs without reply. "Are you a human being, to leave her thus?" "It is better so. We will go to Ostend by the early morning boat and choose a hiding place from there. "Yes; he'll suspect nothing. 98 < 13 > THE ISLAND CASTLE AT HERCULIS Life with Sebastian was often trying, yet he grew on her far more than Gianfrancesco ever had.
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