Had it not been for the Plague, she might have had her own babies. ‘Do you mean to tell me,’ enquired the captain at length, ‘that you have had the infernal audacity, the—the gall, the—the— Gad, it’s an outrage! You’ve stolen a horse from a priest?’ ‘I did not steal it,’ protested Melusine hotly. Only her face was clear, frail and delicate, almost flower-like, with the sad haunting eyes ever watching his. CHAPTER XV. I snatched it up, pointed it blindly at him, and fired.
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