Next instant, Gerald felt his wrist seized in an iron grip. Near the body, which, it will be surmised, was that of Abraham Mendez, two ruffianly personages were seated, quietly smoking, and bestowing no sort of attention upon the new-comers. She clasped her hands over her mouth in a silent scream. No great lover of state or state costume at any time, he was generally, towards the close of an evening, completely in dishabille, and in this condition he now presented himself to his subjects. He looked at her for a moment in a puzzled sort of way. "When in France, I heard from the Marshal that his brother had perished in London on the night of the Great Storm.
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