Just as the attendants were preparing to lower the corpse into the earth, Jack fell on his knees beside the coffin, uttering the wildest exclamations of grief, reproaching himself with the murder of his mother, and invoking the vengeance of Heaven on his own head. ‘I don’t want no gold! Not for serving my mistress. CHAPTER V. Their faces were masks of abject horror, sunken and shriveled, their cheekbones protruding. Down on your marrow-bones, sirrah! Confess your guilt, and Sir Rowland may yet save you from the gallows. " "I am sorry. Where's Marvel?" "Here, Sir," replied the executioner.
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