You see, I kidnapped poor Jack and made him promise to send me word if you went careering off anywhere. “Jacques is wounded and we are arrested by this imbecile of a sergeant. "Goodness only knows what he's reserved for," rejoined the widow in a desponding tone; "but if Mynheer Van Galgebrok, whom I met last night at the Cross Shovels, spoke the truth, little Jack will never die in his bed. How on earth does it concern you?” Annabel laughed hardly. "Where is he?" asked Jonathan.
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