‘Now what?’ The guard jerked his head up the corridor. "On my soul, yes," rejoined Jonathan. And you’re as clean as fire. Oh! you haven't got the key—then I must have it, I suppose. So appalling was the sight, that even the murderers—familiar as they were with scenes of slaughter,—looked aghast at it. Here was an instrument which might be of the greatest service to him in accomplishing his design. “Sir John!” Annabel gasped. As she danced there was in her ears the faded echo of wooden tom-toms.
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