" And he led the way to an inner room, in the middle of which stood a table, covered with a large white cloth. “I’m not the Devil. And because he knew it was a burden, there was no gaiety upon the doctor's face; neither was there speech on his tongue. ‘You’re right. Yes. I didn’t realize—I don’t see how I can get out of it now. He was a thin old man, a wreck in a ruined body, but nothing would induce him to stand in any other way than as stiffly erect as possible like the soldier he had always been, even though he was obliged to lean on his silver-handled cane to do so. 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.
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