The last that is known of Monsieur Charvill is when he departed the Valade estate. Her companion was a portly handsome man, also dressed in a full suit of the deepest mourning, with the finest of lace at his bosom and wrists, and a sword in a black sheath by his side. He had a narrow escape, however; for, passing within an inch of him, the bullet burried itself deeply in the wall. He then made off. ‘Do you think I am afraid of a sword in the hand of a slip of a girl?’ For answer, Melusine lunged at him. " "I hope you never may, my love," humbly acquiesced the carpenter. Afraid, no doubt, he thought grimly, that her other visitor would leave. She dreaded living off the land again, like an animal, as she had done for dozens of years at a stretch. The thing rankled in her mind night and day.
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