"My friends, Mr. A fortnight passed, then a month. There were mysterious rustlings that made him glance hopefully toward the sea. "We may trust him," he added in a whisper; "he is a staunch friend of the good cause. "Rowland," she rejoined, "you strive in vain to terrify me into compliance with your wishes. His horse, which had apparently gone to sleep, preferred to remain where he was. " "Surely, you haven't stolen it?" "Stolen's an awkward word.
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