‘Come, Jacques, mon pauvre,’ she uttered, and reached for the lad again, hardly aware of the muted sounds of running feet and much banging and crashing beyond the secret door. She glanced at the Frenchman, and found him struggling with the portrait that was embedded around his scalp. It was the last thing she felt like drinking. "Can't!" repeated his mother. "That was the lad's name," returned the stranger. Incursions were often made upon its territories by the functionaries of the law; sometimes attended with success, but more frequently with discomfiture; and it rarely happened, unless by stratagem or bribery, that (in the language of the gentlemen of the short staff) an important caption could be effected.
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