Amid the confusion, Shotbolt sprang to his feet, and levelling a pistol at Jack's head, commanded him to surrender; but, before any reply could be made, the jailer's arm was struck up by Blueskin, who, throwing himself upon him, dragged him to the ground. The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts. “Can Lucy and I go out for a walk?” Michelle interrupted the violin conversation petulantly.
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