His name was Marvel, and his avocation, which was as repulsive as his looks, was that of public executioner. ” “Yes, but men;” said Ann Veronica, plunging; “don’t you want the love of men?” For some seconds they remained silent, both shocked by this question. As I hope for mercy, I speak the truth!— let him deny it if he can. From head to foot he was attired in the fashionable garb of the young man of the moment. With a loud shout, and headed by a powerfully-built man, with a face as black as that of a mulatto, and armed with a cutlass, the rabble leapt over the barricades, and rushed towards the vehicle.
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