While the strife was raging, Edgeworth Bess walked up to Rachel, and advised her, if she valued her life, not to scream or stir from the spot; a caution which the housekeeper, whose curiosity far outweighed her fears, received in very good part. “Are you sorry you waited, aunt?” she said. Wood; "and pray, don't bring anybody with you,—especially Jonathan Wild. I'll tote it myself. She sat perfectly still, however. That is all I ask. You have to marry me. . It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. "Your mother is dead," interposed Wild, scowling.
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