Mr. Blueskin drew the knife across his throat a second time, widening and deepening the wound; and wrenching back the head to get it into a more favourable position, would infallibly have severed it from the trunk, if the officers, who by this time had recovered from their terror, had not thrown themselves upon him, and withheld him. "What do you expect to gain from this interview, Mr. No, I thank you. I believe that I have heard my sister speak of you. She was perfectly aware that the boy had gotten some sort of bug in his craw over her despite her sloppy, strange appearance. You can have no shecrets from me. Perhaps I am still mad.
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