CHAPTER XIII. Good-bye, for the pressent—ha! ha!" And, laughing loudly at his own facetiousness, he quitted the Lodge. Stanley, consenting with dignity. "And so you'll turn highwayman, will you, you young dog?" continued the carpenter, cuffing him soundly,—"rob the mails, like Jack Hall, I suppose. It was exactly as Sebastian had foreseen. The few pence left in her purse would only provide a very scanty lunch.
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