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White, Fred M. (Frederick Merrick), 1859-

"The Crimson Blind"

Excuse me if I leave you here--a tendency to ague and English
night air don't blend together."


CHAPTER XXX
GONE!

It was the very moment that Henson had been waiting for. All his
listlessness had vanished. He sprang to his feet and made his way
hurriedly across the lawn. Dark as it was, he slipped along with the ease
of one who is familiar with every inch of the ground. A man half his
weight and half his age could have been no more active.
He advanced to what seemed to be the very edge of the cliff and
disappeared. There were rocks and grassy knolls which served as landmarks
to him. A slip of the foot might have resulted in a serious accident.
Above the gloom a head appeared.
"That you, Merritt?" Henson asked, hoarsely.
"Oh, it's me right enough," came the muttered reply. "Good job as I'm
used to a seafaring life, or I should never have got up those cliffs.
Where's the girl?"
"Oh, the girl's right enough. She's standing exactly where she can hear
the cry of the suffering in distress. You can leave that part of the
drama to me. She's a smart girl with plenty of pluck, but all the same I
am going to make use of her.


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