. ’
She seemed to recollect herself suddenly. "He will be
murdered!—Help!"
"My child!—my love!" cried Wood, dragging her forcibly back. She was the High Priestess. On Tuesday night, she was rather better, and I had left her for a short
time, as I thought, asleep on the sofa in the little parlour of which she is so fond
—"
"Well," exclaimed Jack. "And now," she
added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a
few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have
to go through—to pray for my son. Now Owen Wood had one fair child,
Unlike her mother, meek and mild;
Her love the draper strove to gain,
But she repaid him with disdain. Home!—
which I never hoped to see again. "
"If you mean the fugitive, Darrell, he has escaped through the back window,"
replied Jonathan. "
Sir Rowland, meantime, throw himself on his knees beside his sister, and,
clasping her chilly fingers within his own, besought her forgiveness in the most
passionate terms. In each corner stood a
stout square post reaching to the ceiling.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTUuMjA4LjEwOSAtIDA3LTA3LTIwMjQgMjA6MzY6MDUgLSA1MzI3NDcxNDg=
This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 03-07-2024 20:09:39