I only wish he was not a Papist and a Jacobite. Also, you must send someone to fetch my horse—at least, it is not mine but I have borrowed it to come here—because it will be dark very soon and—’ ‘Woof! Hold it, hold it,’ begged the sergeant. Prudence. Yes, I think we have thoroughly thrashed that one out. “I think,” he said, “that I am right.
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