Uncle Bernac - A Memory of the Empire by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
page 40 of 213 (18%)
page 40 of 213 (18%)
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with much agitation. 'I am sure that I should be the last to oppose any
wish which you might express, but in this case I fear lest your tenderness of heart may be leading you astray. By all means ask him any questions that you like; but it seems to me that there can be only one end to the matter.' So I thought also; for, with the full secret of these desperate men in my possession, what hope was there that they would ever suffer me to leave the hut alive? And yet, so sweet is human life, and so dear a respite, be it ever so short a one, that when that murderous hand was taken from my chin I heard a sudden chiming of little bells, and the lamp blazed up into a strange fantastic blur. It was but for a moment, and then my mind was clear again, and I was looking up at the strange gaunt face of my examiner. 'Whence have you come?' he asked. 'From England.' 'But you are French?' 'Yes.' 'When did you arrive?' 'To-night.' 'How?' 'In a lugger from Dover.' |
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