Firmly built, as it was, the bridge creaked in such a manner with their contending efforts, that Abraham durst not venture beyond the door, where he stood, holding the light, a horrified spectator of the scene. But his words were borne away by the driving wind. 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. When I awoke I followed my instinct to Athena’s temple. ‘Jacques! This—this bête he attacks me, and you stand there and you do nothing.
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