From a scout stationed at the northern entrance, whom she addressed in the jargon of the place, with which long usage had formerly rendered her familiar, she ascertained that Blueskin, accompanied by a youth, whom she knew by the description must be her son, had arrived there about three hours before, and had proceeded to the Cross Shovels. The thin stream of blood on which her eyes were fastened with a nameless horror reached almost to her feet. . ” They went on for a time without another word.
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