You are your nephew's executioner, or he is yours. 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. Wood and several serving-men, all well armed, rushed into the room. Tickle the ears of their reverences with any idle nonsense you please: but tell them nothing you care to have repeated. Michelle's home was one of the smaller palaces, made solidly of red brick with charming black shutters and window boxes full of drooping violets.
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