The red glare fell upon the slimy brick-work, and tinged the inky waters below. . "If I am the devil," observed Wild, "as some folks assert, and I myself am not unwilling to believe, you'll find that I differ from the generally-received notions of the arch-fiend, and faithfully execute the commands of those who confide their souls to my custody. None this end. . "Whose grave is this?" he inquired of a man who was standing near it. . . “Miss Ellicot!” Brendon echoed. ” “You are a marvellous courier,” she declared, as they passed into the street. You'd better lose no time.
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