"My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. ’ He reached into an inner pocket of his coat and brought out a packet of papers. " "As you please," replied Jonathan, sternly. And, setting down the link, he proceeded deliberately to untie his cravat. The man who came to our rooms, you know, that night was his friend. ‘Dolt! Muttonheaded oaf! Why the deuce couldn’t he have sent you home?’ Valade cut in at that. " He then hurried Darrell down another short flight of steps, and entered a small chamber at the back of the house. " "You'd better send him," jeered the turnkey.
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