Ascending the stairs, and conducting them along a sombre gallery, in which Trenchard noticed that every door was painted black, and numbered, he stopped at the entrance of a chamber; and, selecting a key from the bunch at his girdle, unlocked it. "I have not many days,—perhaps, not many hours to live. It was like the grin of a fiend, and made my flesh creep on my bones. “You are not content then with stealing from me my name. . For Melusine was on him again, the point of her sword lunging so that he backed up onto the dais. . ” Ramage looked at her, and then fell into deep reflection as the waiter came to paragraph their talk again. A short flight of steps brought him to a dark passage, into which he plunged.
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