There was a lapse of time, an interval of blackness; then he found his hand in hers and she was leading him at a run up the side of the mountain. She could not judge its direction, and began to move swiftly along the bookshelves, her hand running behind her across the spines of the calfbound volumes. " "'No doubt,'" said Wood, who had again turned over the leaves of the sacred volume—', "no doubt this man is a murderer, whom, though he escaped the seas, yet vengeance suffereth not to live'.
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