" "Didn't the natives have a name for you?" She blushed. A sarcastic smile seemed to play upon the chief-taker's lips; and abashed at his own irresolution, the lad went on. Pausing with the intention of turning back, he glanced in the direction of the village church, the tower of which could just be seen through the trees. "You know my fixed determination," he added in a low tone, as he passed the carpenter. "And who taught it you—the landlord, Joe Hind?" "No; one Blueskin, a fellow who frequents the Lion," answered Jack, with a degree of candour that astonished his master nearly as much as his confidence. She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary.
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