Jackson, mean time, produced a pocket-book; and, after deliberately sharpening the point of a pencil, began to write on a blank leaf. It was still so dark, that nothing could be distinguished except the heavy masses of timber by which the premises were surrounded; but as they advanced, lights were visible in some of the windows. He growled in his throat and, thrusting his coat open, revealed his own buckled sword-belt. I am sorry, but you have spoilt me. .
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