175 “Before you tell me the whole story,” she emphasized the penultimate word, “just let me do something for you. And shall their wretched offspring live to blight my hopes, and blast my fame? Never!" And, with these words, he grasped Wood by the throat, and, despite his resistance, dragged him to the very verge of the platform. "Not materially, Mr. Jack turned away with an aching heart. ‘Will you—what was it?—“blow off his head”?’ Melusine eyed her, a little uncertain. "Who isn't it like?" he asked, endeavouring to gain possession of the drawing, which, af the sound of his footstep, she crushed between her fingers. " "Indeed!—who is it?" "Jack Sheppard. She saw the moonlit waters, the black shadow of the proa, the moon-fire that ran down the far edge of the bellying sail, the silent natives: no sound except the slapping of the outrigger and the low sibilant murmur of water falling away from the sides—and the beating of her heart.
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