No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor. She could not see what occurred, though she guessed it; but she saw Jonathan's devilish triumphing glance, and read in it,—"Your son has committed a robbery—here—in these holy walls—he is mine—mine for ever!" She uttered a loud scream, and fainted. The curtain before one mystery was torn aside, and she saw in reality what lay behind the impulse that had led her into the young man's room. A buxom piece, who looked, Gerald decided, as if she would be more at home in an amorous engagement in a hayloft than sitting demurely in a ballroom. “You must pack for me. A-L-I-V-A—Aliva—T-R-EN—Trencher that's it. Charvill does not believe the general will accept them.
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