The fellow swore lustily, in a voice which Jack instantly recognised as that of Quilt Arnold, and vainly attempted to rise and draw his sword. But there was no feeling of remorse; there was only the sensation of exaltation. It would be the culmination of her plan. Wood in a sharp tone. Meanwhile, the executioner had attached strong cords to his ankles and wrists, and fastened them tightly to the iron rings. You've your own reasons, no doubt, for bringing up her son —perhaps, I ought rather to say your son, Mr.
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