‘Didn’t mean it, love. On the cords being removed, he made a desperate spring at Wild, bore him to the ground, clutched at his throat, and would, infallibly, have strangled him, if the keepers had not all thrown themselves upon him, and by main force torn him off. “I shall never be able to thank you. Jonathan looked in that direction, and beheld the fugitives riding off in triumph. But his glance roved, to the door through which Ruth had gone, to Enschede's drooping back. Then Capes’ footsteps approached.
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