[The Refugees by Arthur Conan Doyle]@TWC D-Link book
The Refugees

CHAPTER XVII
10/17

Shuffling along, they made their way down three successive corridors and through three doors, each of which was locked and barred behind them.

Then they ascended a winding stone stair, hollowed out in the centre by the feet of generations of prisoners and of jailers, and finally they were thrust into a small square dungeon, and two trusses of straw were thrown in after them.

An instant later a heavy key turned in the lock, and they were left to their own meditations.
Very grim and dark those meditations were in the case of De Catinat.
A stroke of good luck had made him at court, and now this other of ill fortune had destroyed him.

It would be in vain that he should plead his own powerlessness.

He knew his royal master well.


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