During all their long comradeship he had never so much as ventured to hold her fingers. Journeying blindly half way across the world, this man had found his quarry. She was, she guessed, close to the library. Guided by the glare of the forge, which threw a stream of ruddy light across the road, Jack soon found the place of which he was in search. Should be home soon. "I would not venture to renew my suit while Thames lived, because I well knew your affections were fixed upon him. Figg?" asked Gay. She looked steadfastly out. You say I know nothing. "Who—who is the Marquis de Chatillon?" "Your adopted son, Thames Darrell," answered Winifred.
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