Amid the confusion, Shotbolt sprang to his feet, and levelling a pistol at Jack's head, commanded him to surrender; but, before any reply could be made, the jailer's arm was struck up by Blueskin, who, throwing himself upon him, dragged him to the ground. "You are the son of Sir Montacute Trenchard, of Ashton-Hall, near Manchester. “Mr. En tout cas, I will not permit that you endanger yourself again for me. “If you really are going to wait, make yourself as comfortable as you can. ” Ann Veronica sat down, and Ramage’s eager eyes feasted on her. And God had let him do it! He was—and now he perfectly understood that he was—treading the queerest labyrinth a man had ever entered.
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