The moment I entered the room, and found you a prisoner in the hands of Jonathan Wild, I guessed how matters stood, and acted accordingly. The girl who had just left the room was as great a mystery to him now as on the afternoon when he had met her in Piccadilly and taken her to tea. 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. “You did not tell me that you were going out, or I would have offered my escort. Would you stand by me—and her?” “My dear Nigel!” she exclaimed. ‘Now then, missie, where do you think you’re going?’ ‘I must see Jacques only for one little minute,’ Melusine told him prettily, fluttering her lashes. Wood and several serving-men, all well armed, rushed into the room. Do not be a fool, Jacques.
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