She cut a deep gash into her own arm with a steel screw, loosing drops of her own blood onto the floorboards. The odd creak was not to be avoided in an old house such as this. Anna sat quite still for a moment, and then the colour suddenly returned to her cheeks. As it is not, however, our intention to furnish a complete catalogue of these curiosities, we shall merely mention that in front of them lay a large and sharp knife, once the property of the public executioner, and used by him to dissever the limbs of those condemned to death for high-treason; together with an immense two-pronged flesh-fork, likewise employed by the same terrible functionary to plunge the quarters of his victims in the caldrons of boiling tar and oil. “I cannot pretend that I am glad to see you, Lady Ferringhall,” he said quietly.
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