"My horse has had a fall," replied Jack, assuming to perfection—for he was a capital mimic,—the tones of Quilt Arnold. "You read it, Ruth. Even an unlikely episode such as this could not be ignored. Whether the turnkey entertained any suspicion of the old man, Jack could not tell, but that night he was more than usually rigorous in his search; and having carefully examined the prisoners and finding nothing to excite his suspicions, he departed tolerably satisfied. She drifted back into the welcoming arms of sleep, feeling herself surrounded in silk.
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