Not a star could be discerned, but, in their stead, streaks of lurid radiance, whence proceeding it was impossible to determine, shot ever and anon athwart the dusky vault, and added to the ominous and threatening appearance of the night. She stole a few glances at John as she stood and played the pieces. His countenance was pale as death, but not a muscle quivered; nor did he betray the slightest appearance of fear. ‘Jacques!’ Melusine dropped to her haunches beside his inert form, feeling for the wound. “Good-looking rascal she met at Worthing.
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