You are welcome to proclaim yourself ‘Alcide’ if you will. She had fallen asleep. Arrived at the audience-chamber, he set down the light upon a stand, threw open the door, and announced in a loud voice, but with the perfect intonation of the person he represented,—"Sir Rowland Trenchard. For some time he could not stir, but felt sick and exhausted. He fancied that the whole fabric of the bridge was cracking over head,—that the arch was tumbling upon him,—that the torrent was swelling around him, whirling him off, and about to bury him in the deafening abyss. You shall know the truth. Manning, with entirely suitable emotion.
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