CHAPTER XXV.

DOWN AMONG THE DEAD It was nearly midnight when a man hesitatingly walked up to the iron gateway of St. Jean’s burying-ground, in Croix Blanche Street. As midnight boomed, he saw a spectre cross the grounds under the yews and cypresses, and, approaching the grating, turn a key harshly in the gatelock to show that, if he were a ghost and had the leave to quit his grave, he also had that to go beyond the cemetery altogether. “Do you not recognize me, Captain B.?” queried the jesting voice of Cagliostro, “or did you f…