‘I thought it was his great-nephew, young Brewis Charvill, who is his heir. But give me till to-morrow—only till to-morrow—I may be able to part with him then. And he unsheathed his sword. Courtlaw opened his lips, but remained silent in the face of her imperative gesture. The pavement had been hastily picked up, and heaped across the end of the street, upon which planks, barrels, and other barricades, were laid. ‘I have only borrowed it.
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