But it is not your name. I thought—the papers said——” “You thought that I was dead,” he interrupted. Do you know the story of Orpheus? He was a musician who followed his damned wife into Hell to bring her back? He was one of us, I believe. Boys, at the time of which we write, were attired like men of their own day, or certain charity-children of ours; and the stripling in question was dressed in black plush breeches, and a gray drugget waistcoat, with immoderately long pockets, both of which were evidently the cast-off clothes of some one considerably his senior. ’ Melusine knew it to be true. CHAPTER XVII. Leonardo was to me nothing at all.
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