A young lad—Roding took him for a footman, or a groom by the neat black garb—was halted some paces away from Valade, his hat in his hand as he made pretence of fanning himself. “Just come to that seat now you are here, Miss Stanley, and look down the other path; there’s a vista of just the common sort. Let him be sure. Do not waste time in vain regrets, but let us remove the body, that we may fulfil her last injunctions. From this peaceful scene Jack's eye fell upon Jonathan, who, seated upon the stile, under the shade of an elder tree, was evidently watching him. "To paint your portrait," answered the jailer.
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