"Give me your hand, Poll, to help me through," cried Jack, as he accomplished the operation. The novel danger of the situation enthralled him. He heard Melusine cry out, but his attention was all for the nick he had made in her neck. Neither Charvill nor his heir know anything of your presence in England. As Jack conjectured, no one was there, and, though a lamp was burning on a stand, they decided upon proceeding without it. Though within the last two days he had committed several heinous offences, and one of a darker dye than any with which the reader has been made acquainted, his breast was not yet so callous as to be wholly insensible to the stings of conscience.
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