To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt. The mock astonishment of his face immediately became genuine. Conceiving himself called upon, as the intimate friend of the deceased, to pay this last tribute of respect to her memory, he appeared as one of the chief mourners. Melusine ran up the stairway after him, her point flailing to frighten him into allowing her access to the chapel. "I loved you," replied Jack,—"don't start—it is over now—I loved you, I say, as a boy.
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