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"The Wrong Box"

It was plain,
besides, he had an eye to the true interests of Mr Harker; for though
the cart drew up more than once at the doors of public-houses, it was
only the sergeant who set foot to ground, and, being equipped himself
with a quart bottle, once more proceeded on his rural drive.
To give any idea of the complexity of the sergeant's course, a map of
that part of Middlesex would be required, and my publisher is averse
from the expense. Suffice it, that a little after the night had closed,
the cart was brought to a standstill in a woody road; where the sergeant
lifted from among the parcels, and tenderly deposited upon the wayside,
the inanimate form of Harker.
'If you come-to before daylight,' thought the sergeant, 'I shall be
surprised for one.'
From the various pockets of the slumbering carrier he gently collected
the sum of seventeen shillings and eightpence sterling; and, getting
once more into the cart, drove thoughtfully away.
'If I was exactly sure of where I was, it would be a good job,' he
reflected. 'Anyway, here's a corner.'
He turned it, and found himself upon the riverside.


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