"But we must be getting along if we are to lunch in the tower of the water-clock. After all, his was a pleasant face, and a pleasant voice, and very likely Annabel had behaved badly. 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. A single blanket constituted his sole covering at night.
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