\" She sat down on a nearby bench. Supper was over. Both girls looked pale and listless. And catching hold of Thames, he quitted the deck. A stout female stood in the aperture, an oil lamp in her hand. ’ He slid slowly down and collapsed to the stone floor, fainting dead away. Though encumbered by his irons, his step was firm, and his demeanour dignified. "Sir Rowland is murdered!" cried Jack, as soon as he could find a tongue.
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