Blueskin drew the knife across his throat a second time, widening and deepening the wound; and wrenching back the head to get it into a more favourable position, would infallibly have severed it from the trunk, if the officers, who by this time had recovered from their terror, had not thrown themselves upon him, and withheld him. ‘You do not like it?’ ‘That is hardly the point. I’m that shamed to confess it, miss, but it were then I thought of Martha.
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