\" He commented heartily, wiping the sweat from his brow with his hand. "Bring him along, Joe!" said Jackson, in a whisper to his comrade. “Can I bring you anything, sir—a whisky and soda, or a liqueur? You’ll excuse me, sir, but you haven’t touched your coffee. I watched you wait at the farmhouse! But I couldn’t compromise your safety! You must have realized that!” She lowered her voice to a loud whisper. Wild was formerly an agent to the Jacobite party, but, on the offer of a bribe from the opposite faction, he unhesitatingly deserted and betrayed his old employers. She made a few protests, a few excuses for her action in accepting him, a few lame explanations, but he did not heed them or care for them. ‘Perhaps she don’t understand English,’ suggested Roding. Dorling said deferentially. ‘I thought it was his great-nephew, young Brewis Charvill, who is his heir. " "It's a hopeless job," grumbled Blueskin, "and harm will come of it. She seemed smitten with a paroxysm of fear. God knows how you did it. At a sign from Ah Cum, official custodian of the sightseers, the polechair coolies pressed toward the left and halted.
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