" "It wasn't the fumes of whisky that toppled him out of his chair. He remained standing by the stem of the proa, his glance roving investigatingly. The ball passed over his head, and lodged in the ceiling. Like the Castle, which it resembled in all respects except that it was destitute even of a barrack-bedstead, the Red Room was reserved for state-prisoners, and had not been occupied since the year 1716, when the jail, as has before been mentioned, was crowded by the Preston rebels. "What of her?" exclaimed Jack, starting up. ” Annabel gave a little gasp.
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