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" "Pshaw!" cried Thames. "I generally do," replied Blueskin, pouring out a bumper of sack. “And as for praying for faith—this sort of monologue is about as near as any one of my sort ever gets to prayer. ‘How is your plan now, mon brave?’ Melusine taunted. The poor old imbecile! Why, this child was a firebrand, a wrecker, if ever he had seen one; and the worst kind because she was unconscious of her gifts.
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