Then to Martin's brandy-shop, in Fleet Street. But I do not need that Gérard attend. Jacques, Jacques!’ His face was white, but his eyes were open, if a trifle glazed. The door was opened, and Austin entered the cell, when he absolutely recoiled before the spectacle he beheld, and could scarcely have looked more alarmed if the prison had tumbled about his ears. But he did not find the sword of monsieur le major, for this sergeant would have recognised it and told me that I am arrested again. "That's it!"—eagerly.
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