"He will be murdered!—Help!" "My child!—my love!" cried Wood, dragging her forcibly back. Ascending the stairs, and conducting them along a sombre gallery, in which Trenchard noticed that every door was painted black, and numbered, he stopped at the entrance of a chamber; and, selecting a key from the bunch at his girdle, unlocked it. Once again the cavalcade was in motion, and winding its way by St.
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