His revelry, however, was put an end at the expiration of the time mentioned by Jonathan, by the entrance of a posse of constables with Quilt Arnold and Abraham Mendez at their head. "Is your master at home?" inquired the jailer. His employer retreated into the further apartment, leaving the door ajar. There was a look in her eyes which puzzled him. "I told you I would call to bid you farewell, Mr. ” “Rather! But I wonder why you don’t mean it?” “Because, I suppose, the other thing is better. Not that there had ever been any hope of that. "That depends upon you. “I hate you because you are the Devil! Rot in Hell!” She was shocked at her own accusation, how she had savored the words. Strange gurgle-like noises emanated from the crypt.
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