"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. If a cart were coming, or those labourers in the field had heard, escape was impossible. My janizaries are without. Recognising the handwriting, he glanced swiftly at the signature, and uttering an explosive curse, cast the paper from him.
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