Until that moment, Jarvis had imagined the child to be safe in the wet-nurse’s cottage. He stood there, large and dark, enunciating, in his clear voice from beneath his large mustache, clear flat sentences, deliberately kindly. Before he could fire a second shot, Jack had to defend himself from the thieftaker, who, with his drawn hanger, furiously assaulted him. CHAPTER XXIX. ‘Jacques?’ ‘No. "We shall all be murdered.
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