“Let go!” she gasped at him, a blaze of anger. It came to Spurlock suddenly that if something did not react in his favour inside of five minutes, he was done. A wrathful God was watching him. I dare not reflect upon the effect that her son's fate,—if the efforts to save him are ineffectual,—may have upon her enfeebled frame, and still worse upon her mind. Melusine flew after him, the sword held out before her and pointing directly at his retreating back. Montressor’s guests were. And imprinting a kiss upon his mother's cold lips, he left the room.
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