"I yield to fate. Come along, you mad jade. Our men had him fast, held down in a chair. Before a word could be said, however, a slight noise was heard in the chimney, and Jack with his irons on descended from it. "Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack. All the events of the previous day rushed to his recollection; and though he had been unintentionally the cause of his mother's death, he reproached himself as severely as if he had been her actual murderer.
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