Having now sealed his letter, Sheppard took a handkerchief, and tying it over Shotbolt's face, so as completely to conceal the features, clapped his hat upon his head, and pushed it over his brows. At the open door stood a young man in a rich garb with a mask on his face, who was encouraging the mob by words and gestures. ‘Gerald Alderley, I don’t know what you deserve. I have always hated it. They had chosen to deliberately and wickedly insult a lady who had done her best to entertain them for many weeks. The fates are never so kind to me. Her mother tried to soothe her with tales of romance and love, of all the fineries that she would enjoy in the Palazzo, but all Lucia could do was cry until her cheeks twitched and her forehead ached.
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