Since then he has persistently annoyed me. So perfect was the illusion, that he could almost fancy he heard the solemn voice of the ordinary warning him that his race was nearly run, and imploring him to prepare for eternity. Melusine ripped at the buttons of the garment, dragging it open and away, and gasped at the massive red stain on his shirt. He had not proceeded far when he was alarmed by the tramp of a horse, which seemed to be rapidly approaching, and he had scarcely time to leap the hedge and conceal himself behind a tree, when a tall man, enveloped in an ample cloak, with his hat pulled over his brows, rode by at full speed. Hadn’t they settled that already? “I want you as a friend,” he persisted, almost as if he disputed something.
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