’ ‘Pottiswick, you mean, miss?’ ‘Yes, yes. Amongst the ring-leaders was Blueskin, whose swarthy features and athletic figure were easily distinguished. Even her debt to him was a triviality now. “And where,” he asked, “are my rivals?” “Deserters,” she answered, laughing. He then mounted the jaded hack, which had long since regained its legs, and was quietly browsing the grass at the road-side, and, striking spurs into its side, rode off.
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