"It is her child!" shrieked Rowland, in a voice heard above the howling of the tempest, "risen from this roaring abyss to torment me. So I dare say I was christened Jack. "And now, mark me. “What are we going to do?” said Capes, with his eyes on the broad distances beyond the ribbon of the river. ‘But my poor Jacques is wounded and—’ ‘All taken care of,’ interrupted Hilary.
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