Even an unlikely episode such as this could not be ignored. "Good night!" "Blueskin," whispered Jack, in his natural tones, as the other passed him, "wait without. Jack did not advance to meet her. A tinge of admiration rose in his breast. Her secret thoughts made some hasty, half-hearted excursions into the possibility of telling the thing in romantic tones—Ramage was as a black villain, she as a white, fantastically white, maiden. During this movement, Jack grasped the barrel of his pistol, held in his breath, and motioned to Blueskin, who bared a long knife, to keep still. “Good-bye,” he said earnestly.
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