" "Your prisoner!" echoed Jonathan, derisively. I'm glad he's come to see me. . Instead her point disengaged, dropped, and then the sword came up again and banged, flatbladed, onto Gosse’s wrist with such force that his own blade dropped from his grasp. Figg, the noted prize-fighter, from the New Amphitheatre in Marylebone Fields. CHAPTER XII.
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