On their return, the jailers raised up Jonathan, who was weltering in his blood, and who appeared to be dying. Opening a pair of large black eyes, the child fixed them for an instant upon Wood, and then, alarmed by the light, uttered a low and melancholy cry, which, however, was speedily stilled by the caresses of his mother, towards whom he extended his tiny arms, as if imploring protection. Somewhere in the world there was a book clerk with a discerning mind; for he had given her the best he had.
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