Left alone, Jonathan lighted a lamp, and, opening the trap-door, descended the secret stairs. Proof that the scoundrel had risen from the dead—for he was dead to his father! He glared at the female whose appearance in England had revived those painful memories—churning unbearably since Brewis Charvill had brought him the news and put him in the worst of tempers—and the fury spilled out. “Ann Veronica has never looked quite so well, I think,” said Capes, clinging, because of a preconceived plan, to the suppressed topic. The picturesque scoundrel had the true gift; and Spurlock was filled with pity at the thought of such genius gone to pot. “You have the ideas. On regaining his breath, he began to consider whither chance had led him; and, rubbing his eyes to clear his sight, he perceived a sombre pile, with a lofty tower and broad roof, immediately in front of him.
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