Wood, meanwhile, had summoned his men-servants, and having armed them with such weapons as could be found, they proceeded to the garden, where the first object they encountered was Thames Darrell, extended on the ground, and weltering in his blood. But his gloom appeared to be occasioned by remorse, rather than sorrow. “You must fetch a doctor,” she said. Pah! Damned Frenchified—’ ‘If you say again,’ threatened Melusine, moving to meet him like a jungle cat poised for the kill, ‘this scorn of a thing French, monsieur le baron, I shall be compelled to give you this apoplexy of which she speaks, madame. For a time they were very difficult. “Ah, Vee,” he said, “that’s better! and kissed her back rather clumsily. I will go to-night. Like a petulant child he snapped. Of course. His literary instincts began to stir.
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