She speedily reached her own abode,—a little cottage, standing in the outskirts of the village. Down on your marrow-bones, sirrah! Confess your guilt, and Sir Rowland may yet save you from the gallows. And the sergeant, having carried out all Melusine’s instructions as if they had come out of his own head, went up to check on his patient, apparently at last convinced that his prisoner would not attempt to run away. Somehow or other his reputation as a hardened and unassailable bachelor had won for him during the last few years a comparative immunity from attentions on the part of those women with whom he had been brought into contact. “Do you play an instrument?” “I play the fiddle sometimes.
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