" "Waste not another word with him, Thames," cried Jack. She knew that in her new rôle she was as likely as not to be a rank failure. He was alone, hatless and without his boots, and he held a wicked-looking French-made duelling pistol, covered in silver and gold— property no doubt, was Melusine’s fleeting thought, of the late vicomte. "Come on, my lads!" vociferated Blueskin, "we'll unkennel the old fox. Glancing around his prison, he began to think it possible he might effect an escape from it. There was a lock, apparently more than a foot wide, strongly plated, and girded to the door with thick iron hoops.
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