Plote was sleeping or deaf. “Never mind me. Now I shall never hear it but what this evening will come pouring back over me. The cart, meantime, had approached the fatal tree. But though the shot took effect, as was evident from the stains on the ground, the villain escaped. Holding down the light, he perceived that the wounded man had risen to the surface, and was trying to clamber up the slippery sides of the well.
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