Lucy looked at her reflection with a measure of awe. Melusine did not pause, but reached down to grasp the hilt of his sword and lift it. Drenched to the skin,—in fact, he had been lying in a bed of muddy water,—and chilled to the very bone, he felt so stiff, that he could scarcely move. "What do you think of your nephew, Sir Rowland?" whispered Jonathan, who sat with his back towards Thames, so that his features were concealed from the youth's view. " With this, they dismounted; and fastening their horses to a tree, proceeded towards the house.
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