"Some dreadful deed is about to be committed, which I may perhaps prevent," muttered Jack to himself. She had a feeling at his departure as of an immense cavity, of something enormously gone; she could not tell whether it was infinite regret or infinite relief. "Hell-hounds!" he cried; "release me!" At the same moment, Quilt Arnold rushed forward with such haste, that, stumbling over William Morgan, he precipitated him into the grave. "Good night!" "So," muttered Jonathan, "having started the hare, I'll now unleash the hounds. The Pursuit.
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