"Not so, Sir Rowland," returned Jonathan; "you are my prisoner. Rowland, meantime, alarmed by the voices, snatched a torch from his attendant, and holding it over the side of the wherry, witnessed the incident just described. The night had swallowed him up, but his work on her was done. " And, followed by the young couple, who gazed wistfully at the poor sufferer, he hastily quitted the room, and locked the door after him. “By God! Ann Veronica,” he said, sighing deeply.
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