Selecting a key from the heavy bunch committed to him by Austin, he threw open the door, and beheld Blueskin seated at the back of the small chamber, handcuffed, and with his feet confined in a heavy pair of stocks. From the first of these alighted Thames, or, as he must now be styled, the Marquis de Chatillon. He recognised Anna, and at once addressed her. “John, that is what you say now.
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