As Jack departed, a dark figure, emerging from behind a wall, rushed after him. Hastening to the spot where he had tied his horse to a tree, he vaulted into the saddle, and rode off across the fields,—for he was fearful of encountering the hostile party,—till he reached the Edgeware Road. His arm entered the round window of the white haze of her vision, his wrist spouting blood in currents, dripping on the stone floor. Melusine cursed herself for his injury.
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