. ‘Dolt! Muttonheaded oaf! Why the deuce couldn’t he have sent you home?’ Valade cut in at that. Stopping before each door, they took up the plates of the locks, examined the ponderous bolts, and were struck with the utmost astonishment at what they beheld. "Who—who is the Marquis de Chatillon?" "Your adopted son, Thames Darrell," answered Winifred. He said nothing. "Hear me, Sir Rowland!" he cried. "Look at these fetters," returned Thames, holding up his manacled wrists; "they were put on by my uncle's command.
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