"And, does any of our bright blood flow in the veins of a ruffianly housebreaker?" cried Trenchard, with a look of bewilderment. Go away now, there’s a good lad. Melusine had confessed this morning, that she had borrowed his horse, that Jack had met with his accident through her fault. The lines about his mouth gradually softened. If you attempt to play the traitor, you will do so at the hazard of your life.
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