"My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. . He seemed safe from the sickness, having been surrounded by the dying, he had witnessed the carnage up close and yet his health still prevailed. The farmer had become obsessed with her and asked her to marry. “I imagine,” Sir John said, “that your sister would acquaint him with it. Instead of passing on, as Jack expected, these persons stopped opposite the cage, when one of them, as he judged from the sound, for he did not dare to look out of his hiding place, dismounted. When in the plenitude of his power, he commenced a terrible trade, till then unknown—namely, a traffic in human blood.
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