Say I will come to him. Jack instandly extinguished the light, and called to his comrade to come after him. He held down the light, and a moment afterwards beckoned, with a blanched cheek, to Rowland. "I understand," replied the stranger, unable to repress a smile. “How will you live?” she appealed. He was the beachcomber, or the old sailor with the black pearl (Ruth's tales), or the wastrel musician McClintock had described to him.
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