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The night grew stormy. The hollow winds swept over the mountains, and blew bleak and cold around; the clouds were driven swiftly over the face of the moon, and the duke and his people were frequently involved in total darkness. They had travelled on silently and dejectedly for some hours, and were bewildered in the wilds, when they suddenly heard the bell of a monastery chiming for midnight-prayer. Their hearts revived at the sound, which they endeavoured to follow, but they had not gone far, when the gale wafted it away, and they were abandoned to the uncertain guide of their own conjectures. The currants in Aunt Grenertsen’s garden were nothing to speak of, either. Awfully sour, small pinheads! The raspberries were small, too, but at any rate, they were sweet. “Then you’ll let him in on this?”.
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kez_ h (Kez_h)
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Conrad
“Look out for falls!” he shouted. Jerry turned and saw that they were on the very brink of a precipice over which the river was flowing. It was a nasty hole they were in. From the noise the water made when it dropped, Jerry was sure it was a long way to the bottom. Besides, he saw in a flash that along its edge gashes of rock stuck up like sentinels. If they were driven against any one of these it would mean instant shipwreck. Jerry was taken aback and for a moment he hesitated before answering. “I reckon so, ’cause they had too good a start for me to catch up with ’em. Good night to ye,” he finished and galloped off to put his tired horse away and get some much-needed rest for himself. “This is Jerry King, Bob,” said Whitney. “Another member of my corps. Shake hands with Bob Hazard, Jerry. We will all be together this summer.”.
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