Mr. Unlocking it, he entered the chamber, which by no means belied its external appearance. It was his heart. "There's Sharples," cried Quilt. It did not matter in the least what name the young fellow was travelling under; all James Boyle O'Higgins wanted was the letter H. In another minute, the tramp of horses' feet told that the perpetrators of the outrage had effected their escape. Hoddy! All her fears fell away.
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