‘I dropped the lantern,’ Jack’s muffled voice told her. Where I am in error, you can set me right. At the back of the house, on a bank, rose an old-fashioned terrace-garden, full of apple-trees and other fruittrees in blossom, and lively with the delicious verdure of early spring. Meantime, O'Higgins wended his way to the Victoria, mulling over this and that phase, all matters little and big that bore upon the chase. Her pulses began to race. ‘Ah, trying to be the young hero, I take it, which is why he near got hisself killed. “I should imagine,” he said, shaking out a copy of The Times, “that it is your brain which is addled.
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