'" "Slave?" echoed Jack. Wood, as, having seen the earth thrown over the remains of the unfortunate Mrs. He was an imaginative young man. "It's an ill wind that blows nobody good," thought the carpenter, turning his attention to the child, whose feeble struggles and cries proclaimed that, as yet, life had not been extinguished by the hardships it had undergone. During this dreadful pause the wretched man felt for his sword.
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