“It is the same man, Annabel,” she said. It’s that father of yours you take after, no question. Wood, with a candle in his hand, which Jack instantly blew out, and darted down stairs. But I shall lose my wager if I stay a moment longer—so here goes. Like the Castle, which it resembled in all respects except that it was destitute even of a barrack-bedstead, the Red Room was reserved for state-prisoners, and had not been occupied since the year 1716, when the jail, as has before been mentioned, was crowded by the Preston rebels.
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