at the thought of relinquishing Sophy--intimated his belief that Darrell
here was, from some error of judgment which Lionel could not comprehend,
avenging himself on Lady Montfort; and closed with his prayer to her, if
so, to forgive lines coloured by hasty passion, and, for the sake of all,
not to disdain that self-vindication which might perhaps yet soften a
nature possessed of such depths of sweetness as that which appeared now
so cruel and so bitter. He would not yet despond--not yet commission her
to give his last farewell to Sophy.




CHAPTER VII.

THE MAN-EATER CONTINUES TO TAKE HIS QUIET STEAK OUT OF DOLLY POOLE;
AND IS IN TURN SUBJECTED TO THE ANATOMICAL KNIFE OF THE DISSECTING
AUTHOR. TWO TRAPS ARE LAID FOR HIM--ONE BY HIS FELLOW MAN-EATERS--
ONE BY THAT DEADLY PERSECUTRIX, THE WOMAN WHO TRIES TO SAVE HIM IN
SPITE OF ALL HE CAN DO TO BE HANGED.

Meanwhile the unhappy Adolphus Poole had been the reluctant but unfailing
source from which Jasper Losely had weekly drawn the supplies to his
worthless and workless existence. Never was a man more constrainedly
benevolent, and less recompensed for pecuniary sacrifice by applauding
conscience, than the doomed inhabitant of Alhambra Villa. In the utter
failure of his attempts to discover Sophy, or to induce Jasper to accept
Colonel Morley's proposals, he saw this parasitical monster fixed upon
his entrails, like the vulture on those of the classic sufferer in
mythological tales. Jasper, indeed, had accommodated himself to this
regular and unlaborious mode of gaining "/sa pauvre vie/." To call once