“Rubbish!” he answered. ‘I don’t want no gold! Not for serving my mistress. " "We'll see that, young hempseed," replied Sharples, shutting the hatch furiously in his face, and locking it. Wood's ear, whispered, "secret agents from France—you understand—friends to the cause—hem!" "I see,—persons of rank!" Mr. ‘You wouldn’t know one end of a pistol from the other.
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