Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love. She bolted awake in the large bed which was awash in a sea of silks, furs, and red curtains. "At length I am my own master," murmured the knight, as his foot touched the strand. Yon must be mine to-night. He returned the locket without comment. She felt he was going to say something more—something still more personal and intimate. "I don't know what his idea was. The procession had just got into line of march, when a dreadful groan, mixed with yells, hootings, and execrations, was heard. "Hist!" exclaimed Jack. ” “I was late.
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