And now, my love," she added, with a relenting look, "I'm content to make up our quarrel. “It’s my fault. ” “You mean you’re going to run away with me?” He asked in semi-seriousness. She would be elemental; there would be in her somewhere the sleeping tigress. After venting his wrath in the wildest manner, and uttering the most dreadful execrations, Jonathan retired to another part of the prison, where he passed the night in consultation with the governor, as to the best means of conveying the prisoner securely to Tyburn. His stories had enchanted her, even if in some deep corner of her heart she guessed they were not entirely true.
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