From this perturbed state he was roused by thoughts of his mother, and fancying he heard her gentle voice urging him on to fresh exertion, he started up. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. "Be silent," said Jonathan, in a menacing whisper. "No Mohocks! No Scourers!" cried the mob. White gasped, and then stiffened. It had been a trying day.
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