Melusine flung herself down the rest of the steps and through the doorway. He uttered a deep groan, but said nothing. Assured, if he remained much longer where he was, he would inevitably perish, Wood recommended himself to the protection of Heaven, and began his perilous course. "My name is Darrell," said the fugitive hastily. “My God!” and ceased to move. Brendon made a quick movement forward. At the same moment a martial flourish, proceeding from cow's horns, tin canisters filled with stones, bladders and cat-gut, with other sprightly, instruments, was struck up, and, enlivened by this harmonious accompaniment, the troop reached its destination in the best possible spirits for an encounter.
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