His fingers cherished the hilt of his sword and his eyes were on his friend and superior, ready at his back to do whatever was needed. A slow horror was dawning in his fixed eyes. " "By my soul, no," replied Jonathan, with affected sincerity. Wood made no reply; but, hastily kissing his weeping daughter, and bidding her be of good cheer, hurried off. " But Thames had no intention of following his friend's advice. They had got all this down already—they heard the substance of it now for the fourteenth time.
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