" "You will call for it before six months are passed," rejoined Jack, sternly. " He laughed and pushed back his chair. “I’m not so sure. "My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. There’s no sense in morality, I suppose, unless you are fundamentally immoral. You will not find it else. Arrived at the audience-chamber, he set down the light upon a stand, threw open the door, and announced in a loud voice, but with the perfect intonation of the person he represented,—"Sir Rowland Trenchard. Melusine had confessed this morning, that she had borrowed his horse, that Jack had met with his accident through her fault.
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