The latter were saved; but of the former nothing but the blackened stone walls were found standing on the morrow. His shirt was unfastened, his vest unbuttoned, his hose ungartered; his feet were stuck into a pair of pantoufles, his arms into a greasy flannel dressing-gown, his head into a thrum-cap, the cap into a tie-periwig, and the wig into a gold-edged hat. She had, it was true, accepted doubtfully the pen he had offered. The next moment, a heavy plunge told that the fugitive had been consigned to the waves.
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