The Protestant Flagellant, who whipped his soul rather than his body, who made self-denial the rack and the boot, who believed that on Sunday it was sacrilegious to smile, blasphemous to laugh! Spurlock had gone back spiritually three hundred years. Over here a man quickly loses faith, and I find myself back on solid ground once more. We all get deceived sometimes. Wood—" "That's false!" cried a voice behind him. " "Wear that to-night, then. “In Paris our lives were far apart, and we had seldom the same friends. In this cell was a huntsman, who had fractured his skull while hunting, and was perpetually hallooing after the hounds;—in that, the most melancholy of all, the grinning gibbering lunatic, the realization of "moody madness, laughing wild. Some of the hotel guests can act as witnesses. They took their places at a distant table.
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