"Right!—right!" cried Jack, striking his fettered hands against his breast. He fancied that the turnkeys had discovered his flight and were in pursuit of him,—that they had climbed up the chimney,—entered the Red Room,— tracked him from door to door, and were now only detained by the gate which he had left unbroken in the chapel. "The Wastrel seemed to take it all right. . One side of the face was white with foamy lather and the other ruddy-cheeked and blue-jawed. "Kidnapped, and sent to France by one uncle, it was my lot to fall into the hands of another,—my father's own brother, the Marshal Gaucher de Chatillon; to whom, and to the Cardinal Dubois, I owed all my good fortune.
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