She struggled against it quite uselessly. “Hospital? What for? What’s the matter with me?” Courtlaw’s voice sank to a whisper. "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. Wild here presently, and I wouldn't for the world—Zounds!" he exclaimed, as the figure of the thief-taker appeared at the wicket, "here he is. But her heart kept on sinking. Her mind jumped with questions as fear raced through her and hardened into a bid for retaliation. Jack had thus been six hours in accomplishing his arduous task.
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