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” She said. I do not choose the vicomte, for that would be foolish. Wasn’t it—a little bit of a scene?” “Oh! let me see. McClintock could not browbeat him, storm as he might. Beyond the hatch, an angle, formed by a projection in the wall of some three or four feet, served to hide a door conducting to the interior of the prison. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect.
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