" In an angle of the Stone Hall was the Iron Hold, a chamber containing a vast assortment of fetters and handcuffs of all weights and sizes. Annabel thought, and thought again. " "Wrong? What the devil could be wrong?" McClintock had demanded, irascibly. “What were you trying to do?” Lucy asked. She was flushed, and her eyes were bright and angry; her breath came sobbing, and her hair was all abroad in wandering strands of black. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. One of the sampans was hailed, and a ropeladder was lowered. She had once reconciled in her mind that she was happy as long as she had him. "It was given me by poor dear Mrs.
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