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THE UNSPEAKABLE GENTLEMAN

"For six months," he replied irritably, "I have been doing nothing else—careful—always careful. It becomes unbearable, but where is this place you speak of—in some other hog?"

I pointed to the left of the trees where Mademoiselle was standing.

"I quite understand," I said politely, "even a day with this paper is quite enough, but it is not a bog and you can reach it quite easily. You see where I point? Simply follow that field in that direction for half a mile, perhaps, and you will come to a road. Turn to your right, and after three miles you will see a house, the first house you will meet, in fact. It has a gambrel roof and overlooks the river. Simply knock on the door so—one knock, a pause, and three in succession. It will be understood. You have a horse?"

"What is left of him," he replied, "though the good God knows how he has carried me along this far. Yes, he is attached to a post. Well, we are off, and may the paper stay still till we get it. You wait here?"

"In case we are followed," I said.

He pointed straight before him.

"I have been hearing noises over there, breaking of branches and shouts."

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