I have no intention of arresting you. The Leads 405 XXI. We're lost. Two souls in travail; one inspired by fresh hopes, the other, by fresh despairs. Ann Veronica glanced at the mirror to discover a flushed and dishevelled disorder. Amid the confusion, Shotbolt sprang to his feet, and levelling a pistol at Jack's head, commanded him to surrender; but, before any reply could be made, the jailer's arm was struck up by Blueskin, who, throwing himself upon him, dragged him to the ground. He thrust the smaller weapon into a scabbard that hung from his belt.
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