" "Where are the assassins?" cried Sheppard. It was a dead calm. —'Why, hang every bailiff that sets a foot in your territories, and you're safe,' says I. "I thought it best that you should imagine him. "Hush!—come hither, and I'll tell you. But, though I cannot reward you, Heaven will. Why? Love was a word of God's, and yet her father had denied it—denied it to the Book, denied it to his own flesh and blood. Take care he don't see you,—and bring me word where he goes, and what he does. Those were dreams.
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