Spurlock lay with his head on his arms, asleep. "Where is he?" asked Jonathan. His most eager inquiries and most lavish bribes could gain no further information than that she had left for England, and that her address was—London. A thickly-set, sandy young man, with an unwholesome complexion and grease-smooth hair, had entered the room. Hark ye, Blueskin," continued he, addressing that personage, who, in obedience to his commands, had, with great promptitude, driven out the rabble, and again secured the door, "a word in your ear.
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