There was a tearing sound as the canvas gave way, and the precious portrait ripped apart as the top of the Frenchman’s head came through it. To hand the key back in silence was like offering a lie. If there is any drinking, I'll do it. Now then, missie—’ ‘Bon,’ said Melusine, interrupting him without ceremony, and paying no attention to the muskets that were pointing at her from two directions. Do not underestimate my power. To his relief, she nodded. The crowner's 'quest sat on her yesterday—and if she hadn't been proved out of her mind, she would have been buried at four lane-ends. ‘Come, Jacques, mon pauvre,’ she uttered, and reached for the lad again, hardly aware of the muted sounds of running feet and much banging and crashing beyond the secret door. What is it that you wish from me? You would like to arrest me for spying? Very well, arrest me. ‘Parbleu, do you think he will run away? He has a bullet inside him, and it must be taken out. I'll turn cracksman, like my father—rob old Wood—he has chests full of money, and I know where they're kept—I'll rob him, and give the swag to you, Poll—I'll—" Jack would have said more; but, losing his balance, he fell to the ground, and, when taken up, he was perfectly insensible. She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. We had better have it over. “I’m damned if I’ll believe it,” he muttered to himself savagely.
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