It was a serene and charming evening, and twilight was gently stealing over the face of the country. This was Blueskin, who burst through the trees, and sword in hand assaulted the thief-taker. It came into her head with real emotional force that this must be some particularly fantastic sort of dream. ‘Your master in?’ he demanded of the astonished footman, removing his cockaded hat and handing it over.
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