"Perhaps," replied Wood, doubtfully. He heard Melusine cry out, but his attention was all for the nick he had made in her neck. Her face reminded him of a delicate unglazed porcelain cup, filled with blond wine. " And he pointed significantly to the hand. I left him in charge of Quilt Arnold and Rykhart Van Galgebrok—the skipper I spoke of— with strict orders to shoot him if he made any further attempt at escape; and they're not lads—the latter especially—to be trifled with. She will sail, at early dawn to-morrow, for Rotterdam. I must provide for my safety. But you—you have a good face. Then he opened the study door and called “Mollie!” and returned to assume an attitude of authority on the hearthrug, before the blue flames and orange glow of the gas fire.
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