” “I had to,” she repeated. Gosse had moved forward, his pistol arm out straight, his aim true, the gun cocked. It was your sister who married Sir John Ferringhall the other day, wasn’t it?” Anna nodded. Glancing at each other, they rose from their seats and ventured to address the captain. Too many. Jonathan looked in that direction, and beheld the fugitives riding off in triumph. Half an hour afterwards the body of Jack was carefully examined. His tongue was more ready, his wit more keen than usual. He went in and leaned, panting, against one wall.
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