His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. The picturesque scoundrel had the true gift; and Spurlock was filled with pity at the thought of such genius gone to pot. You need fear no interruption from him, or any of his myrmidons. Winds returned, the gardens withered, and roses would not bloom. But I never betray an old customer. And I think I must pursue my acquaintance with the fulsome Madame Valade. They are their mother’s sons. I will teach you how to make that little sufficient. Remember, some day you and I are going to have that book. Come with me to the Condemned Hold directly, and, if I find my fears confirmed, I'll—" He was here interrupted by the sudden entrance of the black, who rushed precipitately into the room, letting fall the heavy bunch of keys in his fright. “You can’t think that I’m fool enough to be put off like this.
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