‘It is seldom enough I am visited by anyone at all, let alone a personable young redcoat. Jonathan is in league with Sir Rowland to make away with you. That I should be challenged by you of all people. "Begone, wretch!" cried the mother, stung beyond endurance by his taunts; "or I will drive you hence with my curses. Wood, contemptuously, "he'll never mend till he comes to Tyburn. “Then I will do what I can,” Anna promised. I was resolved to see you. God! I have cheated myself into a belief that the boy perished! And now my worst fears are realized —he lives!" "As yet," returned Jonathan, with fearful emphasis. '—'It's not to be thought of,' says I, thumping the table till every glass on it jingled; 'and I know a way as'll prevent it.
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