" "May be not," replied the old sailor, drily; "but you'll find it too stiff for you tonight, anyhow. ” “Think not,” that young man remarked laconically. There was a pause, and then the front door slammed. —Sorry to quit your lord—worships, I mean,—I don't know what I mean," she added, a little confused, and dropping a profound curtsey to the disguised noblemen, each of whom replied by a bow, worthy, in her opinion, of a prince of the blood at the least,—"but I've a few necessary orders to give below. . . Opening the trap-door, he then descended to the vaults —searched each cell, and every nook and corner separately. You are nothing of the sort.
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