CHAPTER XXIX. 8. She clasped her hands over her mouth in a silent scream. Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne. ” “Happy Birthday to you. This costume, though somewhat extravagant, displayed his slight, but perfectly-proportioned figure to the greatest advantage. It did not matter that he wore the cloth; something was wrong with him. She recognized him as the man who had blundered into the wrong room. All the party were greatly interested by Sheppard's history— especially Figg, who laughed loud and long at the escape from the Condemned Hold.
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