From the first of these alighted Thames, or, as he must now be styled, the Marquis de Chatillon. He wiped the sweat from his chin and forehead. "Lor' ha' mussy, Sir!—how you do talk," said the woman; "this is no robber, I'm sure. Yet here you are, and at precisely the right moment, too. Concealed among the trees that edged the estate grounds, the watchers paused. Of what was she thinking? She must rescue herself.
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