She had dreaded the beginning of this hour. . The carpenter well knew from the obstacle which had interfered with his own progress, that the unknown could not have passed through the same lock as himself. Slowly, he drew back his head and looked into her face. . "Lend a hand with the ruffles, Blueskin!" he shouted, as that personage, who had just recovered from the stunning effects of the blow, contrived to pick himself up. “I suppose all life is an affair of chances.
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