Something was coming through the brush near him, breaking the sticks as it walked. Was it the Snakes following his trail? Mīka´pi strung his bow and drew his arrows from the quiver. He waited.,
"'Tis the English gintleman, miss,—Misther Rodney. He wants to see ye," says the fair Bridget, putting her head in at the doorway, and speaking in a hushed and subdued tone.,
"'Perdition catch my soul, but I do love thee,'" replies he, quite as softly..
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