This formidable person, who was no other than the renowned Figg, the "Atlas of the sword," as he is termed by Captain Godfrey, had removed his hat and "skull covering," and was wiping the heat from his bepatched and closeshaven pate. There was now a girl in the picture, so it seemed. He touched a long-standing sore, and Ann Veronica found herself vainly trying to explain—the inexplicable. " "Would you like to have me read to you?" He did not answer. Their subsequent conversation is outside the scope of our story. The gale had become a hurricane: that hurricane was the most terrible that ever laid waste our city.
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