It was now whitening, hissing, and seething like an enormous cauldron. She smiled and started for the stairs without reply. "At present under the care of his preserver—one Owen Wood, a carpenter, by whom he was brought up. ’ ‘That’s better. Spare me, and I'll be quiet—quiet —quiet!" "Mother!" said Jack, advancing towards her. She was nearly dead. As she looked in this direction, the thief-taker raised his eyes—those gray, blood-thirsty eyes!—their glare froze the life-blood in her veins. "Away with him!" exclaimed Sir Rowland, impatiently.
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