. He stepped in with a heavy foreboding of calamity. The delay was only momentary. " "My father was of the blood-royal of France," exclaimed Thames. "Who—who is the Marquis de Chatillon?" "Your adopted son, Thames Darrell," answered Winifred. She recoiled. Another coach was then procured, in which the prisoner was placed. She sought hastily in her mind for a plausible answer to an obvious question that didn’t come. ’ Gerald came into the room as he spoke, his eyes on the stormclouds rapidly gathering in Melusine’s face.
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