By a miracle, he averted its path, his hold on the girl’s mouth shifting fast to grasp her wrist. " "Have you seen him?" asked Trenchard. Go and prepare for our departure. “Why not?” he exclaimed. " "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. ‘Quick, Gérard.
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