About noon, next day, he was able to move; and the gale having abated, he set out homewards with his little charge. "Are you hurt, Thames?" asked Jack, anxiously. Drawing a pistol, and unclosing his lantern with the quickness of thought, he then burst through an open trap-door into a small loft. "May I beg to know whom I've the pleasure of adressing? Jackson, I conclude, is merely an assumed name. I was the black sheep, I was hurried out of the way.
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