"Never—never!" The words were scarcely pronounced, when the door was violently thrown open, and two men appeared at it. From a scout stationed at the northern entrance, whom she addressed in the jargon of the place, with which long usage had formerly rendered her familiar, she ascertained that Blueskin, accompanied by a youth, whom she knew by the description must be her son, had arrived there about three hours before, and had proceeded to the Cross Shovels. Hear me, adorable girl! You know not the extent of my devotion.
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