"Well, what can you expect, guzzling poison like that? Are you returning with us to Hong-Kong in the morning?" "No. "My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. Wood made no reply; but, hastily kissing his weeping daughter, and bidding her be of good cheer, hurried off. "All's bowman, my covey.
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