Part 7 That was two days before Christmas Eve. ‘He wanted me also to run away with him, and I wish very much that I had done so. ‘Help yourself, Hilary. I don’t! Please enlighten me. I don’t think we’re altogether to blame if we don’t take some of your lot seriously. Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. ‘Do you mean to tell me,’ enquired the captain at length, ‘that you have had the infernal audacity, the—the gall, the—the— Gad, it’s an outrage! You’ve stolen a horse from a priest?’ ‘I did not steal it,’ protested Melusine hotly.
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