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CHAPTER XXIII. Left to himself, he took a survey of the room, and his heart leaped as he beheld over the, chimney-piece, a portrait of himself. ‘Give me my pistol!’ Gerald shook his head, slipping the pistol into his pocket. “I will not rob you of your coffee, most dutiful of sisters!” she exclaimed. ’ She saw the weapon wrenched from Emile’s hand and he dropped to the bench of the pew and sat there, grasping helplessly at the welling blood on his arm. ’ It was a wait of several minutes while Melusine chafed. ” His eyes were squeezed shut.
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