Holding down the light, he perceived that the wounded man had risen to the surface, and was trying to clamber up the slippery sides of the well. One chance in a thousand, and that would be the girl. “You hear him?” he remarked, looking impressively around. I had no curiosity of that kind. ‘But tell me this instead. With a drawn cutlass in one hand and a cocked pistol in the other, Blueskin rushed up stairs. You would want me to be clean, if you gave me a thought, that is.
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