‘Jacques! This—this bête he attacks me, and you stand there and you do nothing. Voices floated down, but there was no sound of pursuit. He drew a little breath and stepped back. "It happened, gentlemen," pursued the Master, "on a particular occasion, about the time I've mentioned, that the Archduke of Alsatia, the Sovereign of the Savoy, and the Satrap of Salisbury Court, met by accident at the Cross Shovels. The veins in his throat and forehead swelled and blackened; his eyes protruded from their sockets, and stared wildly; a thick damp gathered on his brow: and blood gushed from his mouth, nostrils, and ears. But though the shot took effect, as was evident from the stains on the ground, the villain escaped. “She has nothing to be afraid of,” he continued.
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