The child fell within a short distance of Darrell, who, hearing the splash, struck out in that direction, and caught it before it sank. While he was considering what would be best to do, the poor maniac, over whose bewildered brain another change had come, raised her head from under the straw, and peeping round the room, asked in a low voice, "If they were gone?" "Who?" inquired Jack. . ’ Melusine looked from his coarse red features to the pistol, and froze inside as she recognised his intention. The terrific mental tension of the past few months —that had held his bodily nourishment in a kind of strangulation—became as a dream; and now his vitals responded rapidly to food and air. The features were indistinct, but was that not a halo of white about it? And the dark shadow below, was that a cloak, or the habit of a nun? Skirting the dancing, from which he had taken a breather—not from lack of energy, but to escape the inanities of the young ladies he had partnered—Gerald made his way to a side door in the saloon and opened it. One would think I had agreed to her going. Too damned chickenhearted to confess to me he’d run off with the woman. . .
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