He touched her hand, soft and cool to his fingers—she turned at once to look at him. ‘Parbleu,’ came indignantly from the lady. She saw his finger pull back on the hammer of the gun and shrieked a warning just as Jack launched himself forward and Gosse turned and fired. ‘You have said you do not wish to marry me,’ she accused. He hated himself a little for it. Casting a hasty glance, as he was about to turn an angle of the wall, at the great gates and upper windows of the prison, and perceiving no symptoms of pursuit, Jack proceeded towards the hovel at a very deliberate pace, carefully assisting his female companion over every obstacle in the road, and bearing her in his arms when, as was more than once the case, she sank from fright and exhaustion. God had never answered any of her prayers.
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