An alluring but deadly horror out of past centuries menaced the life of the young American—a fascinating tale of a strange and eery love.
at the other end of the room came soft strains of music.
De Lacy stood behind me pouring my wine. One thing I noticed was that in the whole room--and there must have been two hundred people at least--there were no older men or women. In fact, de Lacy was the oldest of the lot; the others ranged from about sixteen to thirty.
"How did my father get all these people together?" I asked de Lacy.
"Most of them, my lord, were born at Rougemont. Still others were adopted and brought here almost as soon as they were born. None of us has ever been outside Rougemont gates." De Lacy was quite matter-of-fact as he made his statement.
Wrexler was searching the hall with his eyes, as he listened to my steward.
"And you?" I looked at de Lacy.
"I, too, my lord, know nothing of your outside world, nor do I want to. Why should I, who am happy here? My family live down at the farm, but his Highness, your father, became interested in me. He brought me into the château, had me educa
