"Saved!" "Ay, ay, it's all bob, my covey! You're safe enough, that's certain!" responded the Minters, baying, yelping, leaping, and howling around him like a pack of hounds when the huntsman is beating cover; "but, where are the lurchers?" "Who?" asked Wood. "Had I not been the guilty wretch I am," he cried, bursting into an agony of tears, "she would never have died thus. My mother, I'm sure, didn't intend to hurt your feelings. Wood's dwelling,—a plain, substantial, commodious farm-house. Brendon. All our fraternity are afraid of him; but I laugh at his threats. One has to train one’s self not to. " "Nothing in the pockets.
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