Sheppard, as a storm of furious voices resounded from below, and torches were seen mounting the stairs; "they are coming!—they are coming!—fly!—to the roof! to the roof. ’ There was satisfaction in Melusine’s voice. He turned back at once. ‘This we will leave. ‘And me?’ ‘Oh, you’re mad because you wish to blow off my head. " "And why not?" asked Kneebone, eagerly. " "Proceed, Sir," said Trenchard, breathing hard. “I will MAKE you love me! Until he has faded—faded into a memory.
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