"Hist!" cried Rowland, arresting his comrade. But at last this ordeal was over, and Ramage opened the door. And as he gave back the portfolio to Sir Rowland he contrived, unobserved, to slip the precious document into his sleeve, and from thence into his pocket. Some doting parent had taught him well. The door was then locked, and he was left alone. Spurlock has gone. His literary instincts began to stir. "Fox-terriers of the sea; friends with every ship that comes along. Hopefully.
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