"What say you to carrying her off, Captain?" suggested Blueskin. Certainly I cannot kill you if you tell me to do so. Sharples received them at the threshold, and holding his lantern towards the prisoners to acquaint himself with their features, nodded to Quilt, between whom and himself some secret understanding seemed to subsist, and then closed and barred the door. ‘Well, nothing,’ uttered her betrothed crossly, before Gerald could answer.
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