"I understand," she said. The strong fingers of one hand secured both her wrists there, and Melusine found herself chest to chest with him as he threw off his hat, and began to pat at her petticoat, searching for tell-tale protrusions. His last actions were futile. And Charcam, fearful of another charge in his master's present uncertain mood, disappeared. He was at length rescued from his assailants,— rescued to perish, seven months afterwards, with every ignominy, at the very gibbet to which he had brought his victim. To them all I am nothing. The vicomte has, he say, enough femmes in his hands.
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