The aspect of the place, so far as he could discern through the gloom, was strange to him; but chancing to raise his eyes above the level of the surrounding habitations, he beheld, relieved against the sombre sky, the tall steeple of Saint Giles's church, the precursor of the present structure, which was not erected till some fifteen years later. “Do all foster kids have the instinct?” Michelle asked naively. But though the breach was large enough to admit him below, he could not squeeze his bulky person through the aperture into the Red Room. Without the inclosure were reared several lofty gibbets, with their ghastly burthens.
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