For a few days he was able to relegate his conscience to the background. "Ho, no," replied Jack. A stout female stood in the aperture, an oil lamp in her hand. " "Aye!" was McClintock's inaudible affirmative. Her clock had stopped—stopped at the very hour on which she had quitted the Mint! She had not the heart to wind it up again. We're all safe!" "Don't lose a moment then," cried Jack, forcing himself into the aperture, while the Amazon, assisted by Bess, pulled him through it.
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