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The sheriff turned the parchment, and raised it in his right hand, to
expose it to the light.
A blank page was seen, if the word blank can be applied to a thing so
mouldy, and in the middle of the page three words were written, two
Latin words, Jussu regis, and a signature, Jeffreys.
"
Jussu regis, Jeffreys," said the sheriff, passing from a grave voice
to a clear one.
Gwynplaine was as a man on whose head a tile falls from the palace of
dreams.
He began to speak, like one who speaks unconsciously.
"
Gernardus, yes, the doctor. An old, sad-looking man. I was afraid of
him. Gaizdorra, Captain, that means chief. There were women, Asuncion,
and the other. And then the Provençal. His name was Capgaroupe. He used
to drink out of a flat bottle on which there was a name written in red."
"Behold it," said the sheriff.
He placed on the table something which the secretary had just taken out
of the bag. It was a gourd, with handles like ears, covered with wicker.
This bottle had evidently seen service, and had sojourned in the water.
Shells and seaweed adhered to it. It was encrusted and damascened over
with the rust of ocean. There was a ring of tar round its neck, showing
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