"And the Marchioness is your daughter," added Thames. The door crashed back against the wall inside and both men hurtled into the room, weapons at the ready—and stopped dead. She could see over a waist high stone wall into the miniature courtyard, complete with benches only a small child could sit upon, one which had been broken in half, its two pieces left unjoined on the sandy ground. "I couldn't bear to see you in it. Immediately beneath her lay Willesden,—the most charming and secluded village in the neighbourhood of the metropolis—with its scattered farm-houses, its noble granges, and its old grey church-tower just peeping above a grove of rook-haunted trees. ’ ‘A convent?’ echoed Gerald with interest. But we cannot discuss this here. ‘Of course. He was an old, skilled vampire. Her companion was a portly handsome man, also dressed in a full suit of the deepest mourning, with the finest of lace at his bosom and wrists, and a sword in a black sheath by his side.
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