"Come on, my lads!" vociferated Blueskin, "we'll unkennel the old fox. A black-garbed young lad leapt out and let down the steps. "Your uncle must protect you. . " So saying, he re-entered the house, closed the door, and, followed by the widow, proceeded to the fire-place, where a handful of chips, apparently just lighted, crackled within the rusty grate.
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