’ *** Everett, General Lord Charvill, master of a barony stretching over a wide estate that encroached on the hundreds of Witham, Thurstable and Dengy, stood before his own fireplace, glaring at his visitors from under bushy white brows from a head held necessarily low above a back painfully bent by rheumatism. Their momentary absence seemed to have worked wonders; for now the most perfect understanding appeared to subsist between them. Melusine started back, blinking. Wood with the circumstances, and putting him upon his guard against the possibility of an attack. The windows were grated, the doors barred; each room had the name as well as the appearance of a cell; and the very porter who stood at the gate, habited like a jailer, with his huge bunch of keys at his girdle, his forbidding countenance and surly demeanour seemed to be borrowed from Newgate. The manservant shall bring your trunks in and pay the fare too, if you like. ’ She grimaced. Let me run you for six months.
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