Selecting a key from the heavy bunch committed to him by Austin, he threw open the door, and beheld Blueskin seated at the back of the small chamber, handcuffed, and with his feet confined in a heavy pair of stocks. "What's the matter?" demanded Jonathan, harshly. Let us part in peace. His revelry, however, was put an end at the expiration of the time mentioned by Jonathan, by the entrance of a posse of constables with Quilt Arnold and Abraham Mendez at their head. . Was this the result of some strange experiment? It was the person of Annabel Pellissier—the soul of a very different order of being. She would never, never go back. Though encumbered by his irons, his step was firm, and his demeanour dignified.
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