“I want,” he said, with a white hand outstretched, “to take you out to tea. Melusine did not pause, but reached down to grasp the hilt of his sword and lift it. A loud buzz of curiosity circulated among the domestics; some of whom— especially the females—leaned forward to obtain a peep at the culprit. She was frowning, but it was evident that her initial fright had left her. It was an impulse. On the right, stood a bulky figure, with a broken rattle hanging out of his great-coat pocket, who held up a lantern to his battered countenance to prove to the spectators that both his orbs of vision were darkened: on the left, a meagre constable had divested himself of his shirt, to bind up with greater convenience a gaping cut in the arm. “I speak from my heart, and you answer from your brain.
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