Marvel, who had been a little discomposed by the treatment he had experienced on Holborn Hill, very composedly filled and lighted his pipe. “Hill’s confession will finally refute a number of absurd stories which have been in circulation during the last few days. Certain information, it seems, has been received from a female, that Blueskin would be at a flash-ken near the Chase at five o'clock to-day, and they're all set out in the expectation of nabbing him. Three times he uttered a phrase: "A djinn in a blue-serge coat!" And each time he would follow it with a chuckle—the chuckle of a soul in damnation. Perhaps I may borrow yours one day?’ ‘Lucilla, you wretch,’ burst from the captain.
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