The ink, contained in a grimy bottle unearthed in the outhouse, was old, and made blotches as soon as it touched the paper. " On quitting the Lodge, Wild repaired to his own habitation. "Fly!" cried Jack; "escape if you can; don't mind me. When the carpenter a moment afterwards stretched out his hand, scarcely knowing whether he was alive or dead, he found himself alone. He walked through the misty September night to his rooms. Wood; but they never come now.
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