He had no use for Ann Veronica; he had never had a use for her since she had been too old to sit upon his knee. Blueskin drew the knife across his throat a second time, widening and deepening the wound; and wrenching back the head to get it into a more favourable position, would infallibly have severed it from the trunk, if the officers, who by this time had recovered from their terror, had not thrown themselves upon him, and withheld him. It was on the eve of that memorable rebellion which broke forth, two months later, in Scotland. As she looked in this direction, the thief-taker raised his eyes—those gray, blood-thirsty eyes!—their glare froze the life-blood in her veins. And for Suzanne and the vicomte, I am nothing.
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