“We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other. Whether the turnkey entertained any suspicion of the old man, Jack could not tell, but that night he was more than usually rigorous in his search; and having carefully examined the prisoners and finding nothing to excite his suspicions, he departed tolerably satisfied. ‘Softly, you say?’ she uttered, raging. You keep on coming truer, after you have seemed to come altogether true. It has. Lucy grabbed the hand cannon, stuffing it with powder, nearly missing a swing of the sword meant for her neck. Past her shot the little old lady in the bonnet, running incredibly fast, but otherwise still alertly respectable, and she was making a strange threatening sound as she ran, such as one would use in driving ducks out of a garden—“B-rr-r-r-r—!” and pawing with black-gloved hands. Before he could recover from the stunning effects of the blow, Wood possessed himself of the child: and, untying the noose which had been slipped round its throat, had the satisfaction of hearing it cry lustily.
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