ToC The ward into which Jack was endeavouring to break was called the Red Room, from the circumstance of its walls having once been painted in that colour; all traces of which had, however, long since disappeared. The sing-song girl rose and meekly pattered out of the office into the night. "I rather fancy, as you Britishers say, that you know the nature of my visit?" "I'm an American. And here you are!” Her aunt opened all the fingers of her gloved hand in a rhetorical gesture. Melusine stepped back a pace, her gaze fixed on the vision before her. “YOU wouldn’t like to be independent?” he asked, abruptly. Recognising the handwriting, he glanced swiftly at the signature, and uttering an explosive curse, cast the paper from him. Jack's heart was too full to allow him to derive any pleasure from this scene; so he strolled on without raising his eyes till he arrived at Kensal Green. Shortly afterwards, he re-appeared with the information that the captive was safe below; and giving the necessary directions to his crew, before many minutes had elapsed, the Zeeslang spread her canvass to the first breeze of morning.
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