"Yes—Newgate; where he was waiting to be tried for forgery, for which he got two years in the Compter. And that's all. Let him deny it if he can."
Scarcely were these terrible words uttered by the Resurrection Man, when a loud—long—and piercing scream was heard, coming from the direction of the staircase; and then some object instantly fell with violence upon the marble floor of the hall.
"Isabella! Isabella!" ejaculated Markham, turning hastily round to hurry to her assistance.
"Stop, sir—seek not my daughter," cried the count, in a stern voice, as he caught Richard's arm and held him back. "Let not a soul stir until my return!"
There was a noble and dignified air of command about Count Alteroni, as he uttered these words, which could not escape the notice of Richard Markham, even amidst the crushing and overwhelming circumstances that surrounded him.
The count took the candle from Markham's hand, and hastened to the aid of his daughter, who, half-dressed, was lying upon the cold marble of the hall. He hastened to raise her; and at that moment the countess appeared upon the stairs, followed by a lady's-maid bearing a lamp.
The count reassured her in respect to the safety of the house, consigned Isabella to her care, and then returned to the pantry, where his presence was awaited in silence.
"Have you any thing more to say?" demanded the count of the Resurrection Man.
"Nothing. Have not I said enough?"—and he glanced with fiendish triumph towards Markham.