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. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. 1. “Heaven knows!” said Mr. Peste, where was her handkerchief? She remembered then that it had been lost in the struggle with Gerald. There was already a score or more of people there, some standing up and talking together, others seated in chairs ranged along the wall. She was lamentably without comparisons; such few young men as she had seen—white men—had been on the beach, pitiful and terrible objects. Had he come to see her to find if she needed something? No. "The only disguise I ever put on is a dress-suit, and I look as natural as a pig at a Mahomedan dinner.
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