She rose from her chair, and began walking up and down the room restlessly. "What's the use of wasting a shot?" rejoined Jonathan, savagely. Wet as he was, he felt if he lay down in the grass, he should perish with cold; while, if he sought a night's lodging in any asylum, his dress, stained with blood and covered with dirt, would infallibly cause him to be secured and delivered into the hands of justice. "I will live," cried Blueskin, with a look of the deadliest hatred at Wild, "to be revenged on you. If I’d meant it, my girl, you’d be dead meat. D'ye hear. "He who breaks faith with his benefactor may well justify himself thus," answered Jack.
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