His hat was placed upon one pole, his wig on another. I have been the vicomte’s secretary, remember. She brought Sebastian’s chloroformed rag up to his face with her right. Light the lantern. Still, my tutor was a highly educated scholar—my father. It was evident the lady’s servant knew his mistress, for he had come equipped with a tray upon which reposed a decanter and two glasses. Let—it—fall. Are you sure you're not misinformed, Sir?" "I was in the Lodge at the time," replied the jailer. “Ah!” said Ramage, impressively. Still he looked hale and hearty, and the country life he led had imparted a ruddier glow to his cheek. Somewhere you may stumble upon a clew to his identity.
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