"Bolt the wicket!" shouted Ireton, who, with the others, had been not a little entertained by the gallant turnkey's discomfiture. Doesn’t matter a bit to me. ” She smiled. At this juncture, Sir Cecil and his followers appeared at the threshold. But whatever she may have said was lost as Gerald pinned her to the wall, the point of the sword at her throat. His attention was focused on Melusine’s transfixed stare and he forgot to say any of the things he had planned to say. Moored to the steps, several wherries were dancing in the rushing current, as if impatient of restraint. But no more of that. “You shall drive home with me in a hansom, if you will.
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