With a cry of triumph, he rose, the sword hilt grasped in his fingers, the point swishing up towards her. "Spare him!" cried Mrs, Sheppard, who fancied she had made some impression on the obdurate breast of the thief-taker,—"spare him! and I will forgive you, will thank you, bless you. "I am one. Then he was surrounded by black-clad nuns, and Melusine felt an unknown hand grab away her own sword.
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