“You are Sir John Ferringhall,” she repeated. “Dear friend,” she said, “this is a matter which you must leave to me to do as I think best. I’ll need you to go back to the barracks and fetch more men up to town. She wanted to come, and I wouldn't let her. ’ The woman shrugged helpless shoulders, looking to her husband. ’ ‘Where are we going?’ ‘Back to Blaye, my girl.
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