"Do you hear that! We are not wholly at fault. Mounting the door he had last opened, he placed his hands on the wall above, and quickly drew himself up. Recognising the handwriting, he glanced swiftly at the signature, and uttering an explosive curse, cast the paper from him. "Jack Sheppard," returned the boy, fixing his eyes upon a portrait of the Earl of Mar. Remember, some day you and I are going to have that book. "Owen, Owen," pursued Mrs.
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