’ Chapter Twelve In the elegantly appointed blue saloon, Melusine sat disconsolate, gazing out of the window at the dull sky. But, as he made no answer, he was removed. He was a bad dog; he knew it perfectly; but where there was laughter, there was hope. But as Rowland sprang to the helm, and gave the signal for pursuit, a roar like a volley of ordnance was heard aloft, and the wind again burst its bondage.
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