And she buried herself beneath the straw, which she tossed above her head with the wildest gestures. 1. CHAPTER V. Her lover, Darrell, has embarked upon the Thames, where, if he's not capsized by the squall, (for it's blowing like the devil,) he stands a good chance of getting his throat cut by his pursuers—ha! ha! I tracked 'em to the banks of the river, and should have followed to see it out, if the watermen hadn't refused to take me. Come along home, Ruth.
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