"Hark 'ee, Ben," said the old sailor, knocking the ashes from his pipe upon the hob; "you may try, but dash my timbers if you'll ever cross the Thames to-night. I could resist the tempter now, I am strong in health,—in mind. “Experte credo. It was like the grin of a fiend, and made my flesh creep on my bones. ’ ‘You say—what?’ gasped Melusine. ” “It seems so—so unworthy”—she picked among her phrases “of the noble love you give—” She stopped, through the difficulty she found in expressing herself. Now I know that you don’t live as close to the Beck house as you once pretended. .
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