Chapter XXVIII THE HISSING OF “ALCIDE” There was a strange and ominous murmur of voices, a shuffling of feet in the gallery, a silence, which was like the silence before a storm. “We’re going to be sensible. “You underestimate your own sickness, and the ill humors that struck you may strike again. Hist!" cried he, as a scream was heard from without. Hanging on the wall was a temple censer, bronze, moulded in the shape of a lotus blossom with stem and leaves—deadly as a club. Stanley’s pace slackened. ’ ‘Parbleu,’ exclaimed the girl, jumping up in some dudgeon.
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