" "Ah!" exclaimed Sir Rowland, glancing significantly at Charcam, who was a confidant in his Jacobite schemes; "is it the messenger from Orchard-Windham, from Sir William?" "No, Sir Rowland. " At the sound of his voice every vestige of colour fled from Winifred's cheeks, and the work upon which she was engaged fell from her hand. You are in the hands of a wicked, a terrible man, who will not stop till he has completed your destruction.
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