"Halloa, widow!" shouted a rough voice from below, "where the devil are you?" Mrs. ‘Well,’ began Captain Roding, looking at Melusine, ‘you know those nuns of yours took up Valade—I mean, Gosse—and put him to bed to mend his wound, and I posted a guard outside his room so he couldn’t escape, for Gerald told you all that. Wood strained his eyes to catch a glimpse of the flying skiff.
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