'Yes sir,' I answered, 'he did, and a very remarkable and attractive palace it is, too.'
The Doctor laughed: his laugh was loud, pleasant, and musical; but at present he seemed to labour under some constraint. He spoke in a low voice, as if fearful of being overheard, and looked about him nervously now and then.
'And did he introduce you to his charming, fascinating daughter Bellagranda, whom I take the liberty of calling "Old Cly"?'
'He did not introduce me to her, but she did not fail to introduce herself to me; but why do you call her " Old Cly," Doctor?'
'How old do you think she is?' he asked.
'About eighteen. She looks very young; and at first I thought her very sweet and innocent.'
'That lovely girl, as you thought her,' said the Doctor, is two thousand and fifty years of age. She is the celebrated Clytemnestra, the wife of Agamemnon, whom she murdered with a hatchet while he was trying to put on a tunic the sleeves of which she had sewn up.'
'Gracious and merciful powers! you don't say so, Doctor?' I exclaimed in horror and consternation.
'I do,' he replied calmly: 'but tell me more of your adventures.'
'She made love to me, Doctor.'
'And you did to her: you kissed her, and promised to marry her, and vowed eternal constancy, truth, and all the rest of it, I have no doubt.'
'No upon my honour, I would not let her kiss me; I pushed her away, and refused point-blank to marry her.'
'You did well; you acted like a brave and a strong man. Did she show you her black dogs?'
'Yes; she drilled them in my presence, and told me
