At this juncture, the door was opened by Rachel. Before he could draw in the rein, his steed—startled apparently by some object undistinguishable by the rider,—swerved with such suddenness as to unseat him, and precipitate him on the ground. " "You!" "Didn't I tell you that the fugitive Darrell gave me a glove! But we'll speak of this hereafter. " "It won't. To-morrow, we'll go to the Fleet and get spliced. A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin.
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