Then he put the paper by. ’ ‘Where are we going?’ ‘Back to Blaye, my girl. The rainstorm, short-lived, began to subside. Sheppard let fall her basket. Seeing from the threatening looks of his captors, that they were about to wreak their vengeance upon him, the miserable wretch besought mercy in abject terms, and charged his master with the most atrocious crimes.
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