" "I cannot repent,—I cannot pray," replied Jack, recovering his hardened demeanour. But not a word to him of Lady Trafford's absence—mind that. Three times she escaped. She could not see what occurred, though she guessed it; but she saw Jonathan's devilish triumphing glance, and read in it,—"Your son has committed a robbery—here—in these holy walls—he is mine—mine for ever!" She uttered a loud scream, and fainted. She bound a scarf tightly round the place where the blood seemed to be coming from. "Pray, make no further mystery; but tell me all without reserve. I used to go by the name Lucy Iovelli, which was my natural father’s surname. But that, and that sort of thing, is just a day-dream. Now, Sir," he added, turning to Jonathan, as Sir Cecil and his followers obeyed his injunctions, "you say you know the road which the person whom we seek has taken?" "I do," replied Jonathan.
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