” “I will have your reason for this,” he said. Occasionally the flames would bend, twist and writhe crazily as the punka-boy bestirred himself. “I don’t know. Either it was an unfortunate recovery of a trail, or he had followed her from Mayfair. Stanley. It was a haunted place. All through that brief but measureless space of time during which wonder kept him silent, as fear did her, she cowered there, a limp helpless object. I promised to put him in touch with some people in Rome, an idea which he warmed to. "To paint your portrait," answered the jailer. “Only so many men neglect their duties. How she needed him! Next moment, she had wrenched open the door, and was confronting her guard. “Yes! I must! The thing is becoming a torture to me. Like the Castle, which it resembled in all respects except that it was destitute even of a barrack-bedstead, the Red Room was reserved for state-prisoners, and had not been occupied since the year 1716, when the jail, as has before been mentioned, was crowded by the Preston rebels.
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