If hate could kill, Ramage would have been killed by a flash of hate. ‘Do you mean to tell me,’ enquired the captain at length, ‘that you have had the infernal audacity, the—the gall, the—the— Gad, it’s an outrage! You’ve stolen a horse from a priest?’ ‘I did not steal it,’ protested Melusine hotly. Somebody ought to talk to him, warn him. A blow from the iron bar instantly stretched the ruffian on the floor. "Do you take me for a thiefcatcher, like Jonathan Wild, that you dare to affront me by such a proposal?" "No offence, Sir," rejoined the jailer, humbly. ’ ‘Me, miss?’ uttered Mrs Ibstock doubtfully. \" \"Okay. He did not want Ruth to see his own stricken countenance; nor did he care to see hers, ravaged by tears. Her state of mind would have seemed altogether discreditable to her grandmother. Even an unlikely episode such as this could not be ignored.
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