She fixed her eyes upon it and ran, keeping always as far as possible in the shadow of the hedge, gazing fearfully every now and then down along the valley for the white smoke of the train. Books! She knew now what had saved her—her mother's hand, reaching down from heaven, had set the giver's flaming eyes upon the covers of these books. Let her see what she could make here. Ruth's mind was fertile soil; for a long time to come it would be something of a hothouse: green things would spring up and blossom overnight. As they neared the house, Jack Sheppard, who led the way, halted and addressed his companion in a low voice:— "I don't half like this job, Blueskin," he said; "it always went against the grain. I don’t want you to talk to me now. "I thought I heard a noise. " "Hold your tongue, sirrah," rejoined Shotbolt, not over-pleased by the remark, "and mind what I tell you. "Has any one been here?" he asked. “They were sent to me by Mr.
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