Chapter Eight For an instant in the silence that followed, shocked into immobility, Melusine stared in horror at the body lying there so still. Standing on tiptoe, on a joint-stool, placed upon the bench, with his back to the door, and a clasp-knife in his hand, this youngster, instead of executing his appointed task, was occupied in carving his name upon a beam, overhead. The woollen-draper was no despicable trencherman in a general way; but his feats with the knife and fork were child's sport compared with those of Mr. ’ ‘So Charvill did tell him,’ Gerald said, once more staring into the hole in the wall.
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