His foot tapped impatiently, and he took up the papers. ” “We do. It belonged to his father, and was worn by him on the night he was murdered. Here goes. That there Frenchie didn’t look any too friendly to me. One day it was gone. But shurely I'd know that vice," he added, turning his lantern towards the janizary. He drew an awed breath. " "Ah! indeed! what's he doing here?" inquired Jack. “I suppose you’re like the rest of them. He picked up the broken fiddle and beckoned. I was standing near Jack at that awful moment, and beheld the look Wild fixed on him. “I cannot reason with you,” he said at last wearily.
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