At the eastern gate of the churchyard stood the carriage with the steps lowered. Her companion was a portly handsome man, also dressed in a full suit of the deepest mourning, with the finest of lace at his bosom and wrists, and a sword in a black sheath by his side. "Kidnapped, and sent to France by one uncle, it was my lot to fall into the hands of another,—my father's own brother, the Marshal Gaucher de Chatillon; to whom, and to the Cardinal Dubois, I owed all my good fortune. It was Blueskin. " Ruth slightly brushed the withered cheek. "You forgot your lunch," she said. He resumed his listening.
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