Michelle moaned and Lucy, unable to help herself, stroked her hair. He held down the light, and a moment afterwards beckoned, with a blanched cheek, to Rowland. The oaken beam, nine inches in thickness, was now the sole but most formidable obstacle to his flight. Mr. The latter looked very pale, either from the effect of his wound, which was not yet entirely healed, or from suppressed emotion,—partly, perhaps, from both causes,—and wore his left arm in a sling.
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