He parried without apparent effort. " "From some of your associates?" "From your uncle, from my uncle,—Sir Rowland Trenchard. When he awoke it was late in the day, and he was surprised to find Blueskin seated by his bedside, watching over him with a drawn sword on his knee, a pistol in each hand, and a blood-stained cloth bound across his brow. "To be sure I will, my child.
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