Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps. She was on the rim of civilization, entering, as Spurlock was on the rim, preparing to make his exit. But they would not be denied. The entire place was a masterpiece of wooden carving, a design of interleaving carried throughout. " "Never!" rejoined Kneebone, with increased ardour,—"never, till I receive from your own lips the answer which is to make me the happiest or the most miserable of mankind. ‘Softly, you say?’ she uttered, raging.
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