"He must be somewhere hereabouts," cried one of the horsemen, dismounting. He was a young man of about two-and-twenty, who, without having anything remarkable either in dress or appearance, was yet a noticeable person, if only for the indescribable expression of cunning pervading his countenance. She heard their feet and muffled voices. It was one of those old sliding trap affairs, narrow and steep of descent. Kneebone and his Friends. She let Jack go as he passed through the opening.
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