‘What you can do, Lucy, rather than make enquiries, is introduce me to this comte and comtesse. Amid the confusion, Shotbolt sprang to his feet, and levelling a pistol at Jack's head, commanded him to surrender; but, before any reply could be made, the jailer's arm was struck up by Blueskin, who, throwing himself upon him, dragged him to the ground. “None, I thank you,” he answered.
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