He fancied that the turnkeys had discovered his flight and were in pursuit of him,—that they had climbed up the chimney,—entered the Red Room,— tracked him from door to door, and were now only detained by the gate which he had left unbroken in the chapel. With a cry of triumph, he rose, the sword hilt grasped in his fingers, the point swishing up towards her. There was a concerted gasp of shock from both the black-garbed lad and the coachman.
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