She was definitely following him. "I'm at your mercy, Poll," rejoined Kneebone, abjectly. Against the walls hung an assortment of staves, brown-bills, (weapons then borne by the watch,) muskets, handcuffs, great-coats, and lanterns. I dare not reflect upon the effect that her son's fate,—if the efforts to save him are ineffectual,—may have upon her enfeebled frame, and still worse upon her mind. Journeying blindly half way across the world, this man had found his quarry.
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