It had been his fevered imagination that had endued the garment with some extraordinary value. “I have made no arrangements as yet— none at all. 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. "My horses, Charcam," he said, as a servant appeared.
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