"Then, by Heaven! you are a dead man!" replied Jack, cocking a pistol, and pointing it deliberately at his head. "Fly, Captain, fly!" vociferated Blueskin; "I shan't be able to keep these devils down. Across the blackboard the colored chalks flew like flights of variously tinted rockets as diagram after diagram flickered into being. I will make her my Grail, and some day, perhaps, if God wills, she shall become my wife!’” He looked very hard before him as he said this, and his voice was full of deep feeling.
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