“Why not? It might amuse me. ” “I am not afraid,” she answered. I am a murderer. It must be sent home this evening. And for Suzanne and the vicomte, I am nothing. The name of this damsel was Edgeworth Bess; and, as her fascinations will not, perhaps, be found to be without some influence upon the future fortunes of her boyish admirer, we have thought it worth while to be thus particular in describing them. “I was hoping to be able to secure a few minutes’ conversation with you, Miss Pellissier. It was not the arrival of the guests, but merely the maid moving about in the hall. But supposing he is? Supposing he made but one misstep? Your island would be a haven of security.
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