CHAPTER XIV. . "Let me go," cried Winifred. “A claim,” he continued, “which I am quite prepared to recognize. "A vow," she answered,—"a vow to my dead husband. ” “You what?” she repeated incredulously. Melusine had confessed this morning, that she had borrowed his horse, that Jack had met with his accident through her fault. She opened the door with a neon colored key. Did he intend to kill her now, this instant? Or had she a moment or two to try to save herself? Recalling Leonardo’s dictum, she did not struggle, for that would only tighten the trap about her, and perhaps even spring it. .
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