"That man should have been an Italian bravo," murmured the knight, sinking into a chair: "he has neither fear nor compunction. The terrors and anxieties of the last few months seemed to have fallen from her, to have passed away like an ugly dream, dismissed with a shudder even from the memory. He was accompanied by a young man of about seven-and-twenty, who carried his easel, set it in its place, laid the canvass upon it, opened the paint box, took out the brushes and palette, and, in short, paid him the most assiduous attention. Wood; "I can't for an instant question such distinterested testimony.
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