Uttering a faint scream, she sank backwards, and would have fallen, if it had not been for the interposition of Blueskin, who, at that moment, staggered into the room with a candle in one hand, and the bottle in the other. Before midnight, your nephew shall be safe beneath the hatches of the Zeeslang. In truth, she had been quite glad to lose the argument about remaining while the bullet was dug out of Jack’s side. ‘Bête!’ Gerald caught her hand as she pulled it back to deliver another blow.
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