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" "It is past," rejoined Lady Trafford, recovering herself by a powerful effort; "but never allude to the circumstance again. ” “Annabel, are you mad? To England! You are joking, of course. . The fever came. The settlement was on the middle west coast. She turned a resolute face southward. To be confronted with the girl’s damned Frenchman of a husband was another matter altogether. Recognising the handwriting, he glanced swiftly at the signature, and uttering an explosive curse, cast the paper from him. It was perfectly logical. When in the plenitude of his power, he commenced a terrible trade, till then unknown—namely, a traffic in human blood.
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