A little inn flying a Swiss flag nestles under a great rock, and there they put aside their knapsacks and lunched and rested in the mid-day shadow of the gorge and the scent of resin. It was wrenched away from Melusine’s clutching hands. "By Heaven!" cried Darrell, "it is the poor fellow whom I placed in such jeopardy a short time ago. ’ Melusine’s eyes flashed. Even given that he was hopelessly enamoured of the wench, a fact which was obvious to the meanest intelligence. “Eight pounds,” she plunged, and added foolishly, “fifteen pounds will see me clear of everything.
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