His grip twisted her wrist. . " "Don't anger him, my dear son," implored the poor widow, with a look of anguish at Jack. "Hush!" said she, in a low, but agitated voice; "would you earn this purse?" "I've no objection," replied Blueskin, in a tone intended to be gentle, but which sounded like the murmuring whine of a playful bear. Ben had scarcely adjusted his oars, when the gleam of a lantern was seen moving towards the bank.
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