"His life—or yours?" "No one shall harm you more, my dear," cried Lady Trafford. A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin. CHAPTER XXVII His idea, cleverly planned, was to shatter her resistance, to confound her suddenly by striking her mind with words which would rob her coherent thought. But whatever she may have said was lost as Gerald pinned her to the wall, the point of the sword at her throat. "Fly, Captain—fly!" Aroused to a sense of the possibility of escape, Jack, who had viewed the deadly assault with savage satisfaction, burst from his captors and made for the door.
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