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Beneath him the sea was a sparkling plain. The Gentleman was kneeling beside his dead. He closed her eyes, and kissed the cold muzzle. "Adieu, ma mie," he whispered. "L'Irlande n'oubliera jamais." Then he put on his hat, and braved the sunshine. "Take my arm, Little Chap." So the two faced the hill. A question bubbled to the lad's lips. At last it blurted out. "How did they catch you, sir?"
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