"Put down your burthen, monster!" shouted Wood, pointing an immense blunderbuss at him. He had particular reasons for wanting to keep Spurlock away from the jetty. ‘Let her go. His arm closed in around her middle and she was caught. "Well?" he whispered. "'Sdeath!" cried Hogarth, aside to the poet. ‘You did not find Gosse, that is seen, but—’ ‘Gosse? Gosse? Who’s this here Gosse then?’ ‘He is the Frenchman of whom I told you. So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them.
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