"We have him!" cried Jonathan, hurrying down the steps. I am no one, Gérard. They tracked the fugitive to the Mint; but, like hounds at fault, they here lost all scent of their prey. ‘While you are making me this interrogation, my poor Jacques bleeds to death. It had been cut down before life was extinct, but a ball from one of the soldiers had pierced his heart. But threats and entreaties—even promises were ineffectual; and the unlucky captive, after exhausting his powers of persuasion, was compelled to give up the point.
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