“Hola Marteen!” She exclaimed cheerfully. She was not afraid exactly, but there was that about her loneliness to-night she distrusted. . She fought the inclination for a while, then surrendered. ‘What are you going to do now, child?’ Melusine sighed away the last of her distress. He held down the light, and a moment afterwards beckoned, with a blanched cheek, to Rowland. For a long time he stared at the empty doorway. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. " When Spurlock had finished the tale, touched here and there by his own imagination, McClintock made a negative sign.
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