The Plague raced through the city and the Palazzo, consuming it like fire. ‘But we—mon mari and myself—we have the bonne chance. I don’t think they do matter. ’ ‘Melusine!’ came sharply from the doorway. I was once a disciple of Saint Peter myself, and speak from experience. ’ She turned, her eyes narrowed. The blaze, however, was sufficient to reveal to the thief-taker the features of his intended assassin. Before he could draw in the rein, his steed—startled apparently by some object undistinguishable by the rider,—swerved with such suddenness as to unseat him, and precipitate him on the ground. The only circumstance which served to awaken a darker feeling in his breast was, that his implacable foe Jonathan Wild had survived the wound inflicted by Blueskin, and was slowly recovering. Melusine feigned a displeased frown.
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