‘Monsieur Charvill,’ pursued Valade, ‘has left the chateau, and since we have heard from him nothing at all, but for the letters to his daughter from Italy. Wood, was much better furnished with eatables than might have been expected, and boasted a loaf, a knuckle of ham, a meat-pie, and a flask of wine. Ha! ha! What have I left but despair and madness? Promise me one thing, Mr. ’ ‘You’re going to break into the house? You’re mad. We will go to Ostend by the early morning boat and choose a hiding place from there. A mutual recognition took place at the same instant between the stranger and this individual.
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