It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. But, finding the cellar-door open, concluded he had got out that way. " "Her release would be a mercy," pursued the matron. " "Instantly, Sir," replied Austin; "instantly. "One'd think it rained fares, as well as blowed great guns. "Where is your accursed master?" demanded Blueskin, holding the sword to his throat.
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