As she went on, the story began to sound more and more like a recitation. "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. Oh! you haven't got the key—then I must have it, I suppose. ’ He thought Roding gave him an odd look, but his next question was already in his head. Ramage,” she cried, “you are outrageous! You understand nothing. I was ready to wager that your name would have marched with one of them. She was supposed to be reading at home, and after breakfast she strolled into the vegetable garden, and having taken up a position upon the staging of a disused greenhouse that had the double advantage of being hidden from the windows of the house and secure from the sudden appearance of any one, she resumed the reading of Mr.
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