He glanced down between the still narrow distance that lay between Melusine and himself, and discovered her hand there, a very small dagger within it. "It is her child!" shrieked Rowland, in a voice heard above the howling of the tempest, "risen from this roaring abyss to torment me. The lady's name's engraved inside, but so small I can scarcely read it. Would you like to borrow some of my clothes? I think we're about the same size. " Sir Rowland caught at a chair for support, and passed his hand across his brow, on which the damp had gathered thickly. And he who opposes me in it shall feel the weight of my hand.
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