Blueskin drew the knife across his throat a second time, widening and deepening the wound; and wrenching back the head to get it into a more favourable position, would infallibly have severed it from the trunk, if the officers, who by this time had recovered from their terror, had not thrown themselves upon him, and withheld him. Still, I suppose Melusine can always sell the house. She could visualize the picture she had presented, particularly the battered papier-mâché kitbag at her feet. “What the devil do you mean by coming for me like that?” Ennison exclaimed, glowering down upon him.
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