He began to tell me something—and stopped. Let's talk of this chap. Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne. Its architecture was richly ornamental, and resembled the style of a triumphal entrance to a capital, rather than a dungeon having battlements and hexagonal towers, and being adorned on the western side with a triple range of pilasters of the Tuscan order, amid the intercolumniations of which were niches embellished with statues. From all angles he was at a disadvantage—in weight, skill, endurance. Such was the simple code that displayed itself in all his thoughts. The palanquin is hired and so is the procession. His salvation—if there was to be any—lay in her ignorance of life. " "So I perceive," said Ruth, withdrawing her hands. I ate only enough to keep body and soul together.
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