” He said. He refused to believe that Anna was not ‘Alcide. Taking hold of the hilt of his own foil, he drew it forth. . Her anger died and she eyed him. You, Anna, are one of them. Having heard from Thames that you were better, and that your sole anxiety was about me, I came to give you the first intelligence of my escape. He wrote poems to her beauty that he recited from a seemingly infinite memory. As it is not, however, our intention to furnish a complete catalogue of these curiosities, we shall merely mention that in front of them lay a large and sharp knife, once the property of the public executioner, and used by him to dissever the limbs of those condemned to death for high-treason; together with an immense two-pronged flesh-fork, likewise employed by the same terrible functionary to plunge the quarters of his victims in the caldrons of boiling tar and oil. Her eyes were dilated— fixed in a horrified stare at the parting in the curtains which hung before the window.
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