‘You will not, pig,’ cried Melusine. . ” He looked at her gravely. There you will be, in an inner temple. Pity you aren’t under my command. Ann Veronica stared for a moment in amazement at this dark-green object that clashed as it was put down. 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.
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