"' Instead of regarding him, Jack glanced over the iron bannisters, and measured the distance. ‘Martha was my wet-nurse? But she is unmarried. Then most horribly she was clasped about the waist from behind and lifted from the ground. "Where is your accursed master?" demanded Blueskin, holding the sword to his throat. The two hostlers, however, kept close at his heels; and Jack, whose strength began to flag, feared he could not hold much longer.
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