“Are you sorry you waited, aunt?” she said. "Ah!" exclaimed Wild, looking angrily towards his supposed attendant. With a loud shout, and headed by a powerfully-built man, with a face as black as that of a mulatto, and armed with a cutlass, the rabble leapt over the barricades, and rushed towards the vehicle. " "You're strangely superstitious, Sir Rowland," said Jonathan, halting, and looking steadfastly at him.
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