Either ignorant of the accident, or heedless of it, the foremost horseman pursued his way without even turning his head. ‘Jacques, are you dead? Jacques, do you hear me?’ Melusine put her cheek to his lips, and felt the faint warmth of his breath. What will you give me to save you from your pursuers?" "Can you do so?" asked the other, doubtfully. From time to time the man below would shout, and the boy would let the threads go with the snap of a harpist, only to recover them instantly.
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