Give way, and let us render what assistance we can to the poor wretch. The coachman having received his order, and being offered an extra fare if he drove quickly, set off at full speed. "Curse you! Where are the bailiffs? Rot you! have you lost your tongue? Devil seize you! you could bawl loud enough a moment ago!" "Silence, Blueskin!" interposed an authoritative voice, immediately behind the ruffian. They sat down, McClintock reaching for a lump of sugar which he began munching.
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