‘Who in the name of heaven is this Leonardo? And why did he kiss you?’ ‘He was an Italian soldier, and he wanted to kiss me,’ Melusine said, goaded. I saw him ride away with that other fellow. The significance of the kiss was still obscure to her, though she had frequently encountered the word and act in the Old and New Testaments and latterly in novels. “Still, of course, it is possible. Captain Kneebone! we must trouble you to accompany us. This person was speedily followed by half a dozen others, some of whom carried flambeaux. ” “Where?” Courtlaw asked quickly. ‘More important is that you help me instantly, as even your capitaine would command. Speak lower.
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