" "Not unless your skull's bullet-proof," cried a voice at his elbow; and, as the words were uttered, a pistol was snapped at his head, which,—fortunately or unfortunately, as the reader pleases,—only burnt the priming. You shall have your reward. That's why I'm so anxious to get her to a haven. The old lady clearly read his state of mind, for the apparently irrepressible dimple peeped out. Sebastian looked up and stood. ‘Must be still downstairs. A stout female stood in the aperture, an oil lamp in her hand.
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