Jack's complexion was that of a gipsy; Darrell's as fresh and bright as a rose. ” She said. We'll be upon the ban-dogs before they can shake their trotters!" And the alarm was sounded more loudly than ever. As soon as Jack gained his legs, he perceived Blueskin lying, as he thought, dead in the plantation, with a severe cut across his temples, and while he was stooping to assist him, he heard groans at a little distance.
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