Sheppard, as a storm of furious voices resounded from below, and torches were seen mounting the stairs; "they are coming!—they are coming!—fly!—to the roof! to the roof. Will you not, brother?" "Promise," said a deep voice in Trenchard's ear. She seemed bursting with the desire to talk, and watching for her opportunity. You're Mister Wild's pris'ner, and worse luck to it!" "I don't ask you to liberate me," urged Thames; "but will you convey a message for me?" "Where to, honey?" "To Mr.
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