Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. Caution forced her to speak calmly. He could not tell whether she was English or American. "You were watched to-night by Blueskin. It has been purchased by blood!" "What! have you cut old Wood's throat?" asked Wild, with great unconcern, as he took up the bag. Jack had well-nigh fallen too.
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