" "You are right, Sir," said the worthy carpenter, rising. “You don’t propose, do you,” she said quietly, “that I should take this man for my husband?” “You can drive him away,” Annabel cried. She was as fair as the lily of the lotus. She was alone with a deadly enemy. The flicker of an eyelash might betray his presence. All he will say is that she said so—as if anyone could believe a word the girl said. She was supposed to be reading at home, and after breakfast she strolled into the vegetable garden, and having taken up a position upon the staging of a disused greenhouse that had the double advantage of being hidden from the windows of the house and secure from the sudden appearance of any one, she resumed the reading of Mr. ‘Where did you get that, miss?’ ‘It is the sword of monsieur le major.
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