"Write as I dictate," he cried, placing a pen in the jailer's hand and a pistol to his ear. Petrified and speechless, he turned an imploring look at Wild, who was himself filled with astonishment at the pile of rubbish lying before him. Thank him, not me, man. The fatal shower, from which he and his little charge escaped uninjured, had stricken his assailant and precipitated him into the boiling gulf. He would give The Tigress a triple coat of paint, and take these two on a long cruise, wherever they wanted to go—Roundhead and Seraph, the blunderbus and the flaming angel. For many of them it will smirch us forever. ’ ‘I don’t want to think it,’ he said, and she thrilled to the savagery in his tone. CHAPTER III. There is no need of your friend to kill you, imbecile, because I shall do so this minute.
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