The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 53: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

CHAPTER IV THE CHAPEL Tuer clock in the tower over the entrance of Saxondale Castle was proclaiming the hour of eleven with its deep, metallic tones as Ralph, having threaded the various passages and corridors leading toward the chapel, entered that place of appointment. The wax candle which he carried in one hand and shaded with the other, to protect the light from the draught, threw but a dismal, sickly gleam around, rather enhancing than dispelling the gloom of the place, . while the open arched entrance into the cloister containing the tombs and the statue seemed the mouth of a cavern of pitchy blackness. Ralph Farefield was not, however, the man to give way to superstitious feelings. The selfish concerns of the known world were too absorbing to allow his imagination to wander to that unknown world whence spirits are conjured up. Placing the candle in a niche, so as to secure it from the draught, he leaned against the wall with folded arms, awaiting Lady Saxondale, who had not yet made her appear- ance. Her conduct had both surprised and perplexed Ralph Farefield. What could she mean? Why this mysterious appointment? Could she not have managed some other place and hour for a meeting? And did she not actually compromise her reputation by the course she was adopting? Was it possible that she had conceived a passion for him? Naturally good-looking and of a strong constitution, he bore but few traces of the debauched and profligate life which he had led; and being tall, slender, and well-formed, it might not be considered an overweening vanity on his part if he entertained the supposition that a young and impassioned woman had really fallen in love with him. 36 CONNIE OO KS (E(0)