She remained for some seconds crouching at the fender, poker in hand. "Too late!" shrieked the lady, falling heavily backwards,—"too late!—oh!" Heedless of her cries, Jonathan passed a handkerchief tightly over her son's mouth, and forced him out of the room. It was grated and crested with spikes, like that he had just burst open, and thinking it a needless waste of time to force it, he broke off one of the spikes, which he carried with him for further purposes, and then climbed over it. ‘Lay him down on a sofa,’ Melusine said, coming out behind them and moving towards the antechamber. Look here. gutenberg.
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