When Claude Du Val was in Newgate thrown, He carved his name on the dungeon stone; Quoth a dubsman, who gazed on the shattered wall, "You have carved your epitaph, Claude Du Val, With your chisel so fine, tra la!" "This S wants a little deepening," mused the apprentice, retouching the letter in question; "ay, that's better. Then to the Dean's Head, in St. Melusine sighed with relief at being alone at last and free to resume her search among the portraits. I'm neither an infidel nor an agnostic, so I'll content myself by saying that the hand of God is in this somewhere. I will give you a broad free life. This is a tale of two young fools.
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