" "Conduct me to your dwelling, Sir, without further delay," said Trenchard, sternly,—"to the boy. His gaze drawn, Gerald watched him dip to pick up a crushed square of white linen and a starched object that resembled a helmet. The pistol was his own, it is true, but it was one which was taken from him when he forced his way in upon me before. They would arrive sometime in June.
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