"You're a bold fellow, Jack," rejoined the blacksmith. He fancied that the turnkeys had discovered his flight and were in pursuit of him,—that they had climbed up the chimney,—entered the Red Room,— tracked him from door to door, and were now only detained by the gate which he had left unbroken in the chapel. She spoke with fluent enthusiasm. She can't last long. His food lay untouched about his plate.
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