Darrell stood erect in the bark, with his drawn sword in hand, prepared to repel the attack of his assailants, who, in their turn, seemed to await with impatience the moment which should deliver him into their power. "What's that?—Jack's voice!" "It is," replied her son. Hogarth, before the jailer," replied Jack. " "You at least appear to forget that Mr. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. The rest of his attire was nondescript. .
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