A light was visible in the garret, feebly struggling through the damp atmosphere, for the night was raw and overcast. Well, well; all he himself could do would be to watch this singular drama unroll. The fellow swore lustily, in a voice which Jack instantly recognised as that of Quilt Arnold, and vainly attempted to rise and draw his sword. The highest form of knowledge was magic: the priesthood. "I will, when I catch him, rely on it," rejoined Wild. Melusine’s eyes blazed into his.
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