"There," cried Jackson, closing the book and rising, "that'll do. A film of dust lay upon it; the ink marks were ancient. Wild, gentlemen, and the nubbin' cheat. Having no means of defence, Sir Rowland cleared the blood from his vision; and, turning to see whether there was any means of escape, he descried the open door behind him leading to the Well Hole, and instantly darted through it. Or, better still, put all my clothes in the trunk. From time to time, however, he was baffled. Deep silences came between them.
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