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"It is her child!" shrieked Rowland, in a voice heard above the howling of the tempest, "risen from this roaring abyss to torment me. I'll be at the Cross Shovels in the course of the day. A vast indifference settled down upon him. Luck. It was on the eve of that memorable rebellion which broke forth, two months later, in Scotland. ’ ‘Merci,’ she sighed and, surrendering at last to his oft-proffered aid, allowed her head to droop onto his chest. 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.
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