CHAPTER XVI. "I assure you, Sir, when I left him an hour ago, it was locked. While he was thus standing, the flames of his house, which made the whole street as light as day, and ruddily illumined the faces of the mob below, betrayed him to them, and he was speedily driven from his position by a shower of stones and other missiles. . In the little apartment, under the gas chandelier, his inches and his stoop were certainly very effective. ’ Melusine shrugged. "'Odd's-my-life! what's this?" exclaimed the carpenter, looking at the superscription of one of them. He was not addicted to monologue, and the only audible comment he permitted himself at first upon a universe that was evidently anything but satisfactory to him that afternoon, was one compact and entirely unassigned “Damn!” The word must have had some gratifying quality, because he repeated it. " "For me!" vociferated Mrs. “You have even her name. "Poor thing!" muttered he, as the widow departed on her errand, "she's seen better days and better circumstances than she'll ever see again, I'm sure. Nor as I’ve to put up with a French spy in my parlour—’ ‘Peste, how you talk,’ interrupted Melusine impatiently, barely taking in his complaints.
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