’ The lodgekeeper had been in fine fettle by the time Major Alderley had produced his investigatory force at the gates. In concealing himself behind the timber, Mr. The next page was a drawing that she had made in pen and ink of his face, or what she had remembered of it. You are nothing of the sort. He was roused from the stupor of despair into which he had sunk by the voice of Ben, who roared in his ear, "The bridge!—the bridge!" CHAPTER VII.
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