Outside in the hall he paused and thoughtfully stroked his smooth blue chin. The passion of pent-up speech compelled action of some sort. "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. I thought that he was dead.
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