And see!" he added, as the figures drew back, and the lights disappeared; "it's a false alarm. "What do you want fot that coat, friend?" asked Jack, as he came up. The low ceiling made him seem abnormally tall. He seemed wholly insensible to the rain, though it presently descended in torrents, and continued his search as ardently as before. "Who—who is the Marquis de Chatillon?" "Your adopted son, Thames Darrell," answered Winifred. ‘Who me, sir? Lor’ no, sir. The beautiful city that she had been awed by and even grown to love had been abandoned. I've got to know why. ‘That,’ he said stonily, ‘is yet another point over which we fell out. “The Chens must already be here.
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