“I cannot thank you, Sir John,” she said. " "Not unless your skull's bullet-proof," cried a voice at his elbow; and, as the words were uttered, a pistol was snapped at his head, which,—fortunately or unfortunately, as the reader pleases,—only burnt the priming. Chapter Eight For an instant in the silence that followed, shocked into immobility, Melusine stared in horror at the body lying there so still. "Farewell for ever," said Jack, extending his hand to Mrs. “I’d chuck this lark right off if I were you, Vee,” he said.
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