" "Are you man, or fiend?" exclaimed Trenchard, staring at the stranger, as he concluded his narration. For a time he heard no more, and stared with stony eyes at a Book-War proclamation in leaded type that filled half a column of the Times that day. The unfortunate prisoner, meanwhile, who was not informed of the respite, languished in his horrible dungeon, and, at the expiration of three weeks, became so seriously indisposed that it was feared he could not long survive. You are taking it for granted that I am ‘Alcide. ’ ‘How can you say so?’ protested Melusine. Deuce take it! I was very near spelling my name with one P.
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