As it was he caught her wrist in time, and in a rage he tore the weapon from her fingers, and flung it far across the room.
"So, pretty lady!" he gasped, now gripping both her wrists.

"So! we are suicidally inclined, are we! We would cheat Captain Charlot, would we?
Fi donc!" he continued with horrid playfulness.

"To shed a blood so blue upon a floor so unclean! Name of a name of a name!" Accounting herself baffled at every point, this girl, who had hitherto borne herself so stoutly as to have stoically sought death as a last means of escape, began to weep softly.

Whereupon: "Nay, nay, little-woman," murmured the Captain, in such accents as are employed to a petted child, and instinctively, in his intent to soothe he drew her nearer.

And now the close contact thrilled him; her beauty, and some subtle perfume that reached him from her, played havoc with his senses.