Feel for the lock, and prize it open,—you don't need to be told how. “Let me help you,” he begged. 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. “What’s odd?” “Oh, everything!” She shivered, and went to the fire and poked it.
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