Seeing from the threatening looks of his captors, that they were about to wreak their vengeance upon him, the miserable wretch besought mercy in abject terms, and charged his master with the most atrocious crimes. We’re hard stuff!” Then she went on: “To think that is my father! Oh, my dear! He stood over me like a cliff; the thought of him nearly turned me aside from everything we have done. When the paroxysm passed, he was forced to lean against the window-jamb for support. Out of these he selected a faded parchment and restored the rest to safety. He righted a chair and sat in it, his face in his hands. My mother died the day I was born; that’s what they tell me.
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