With a loud shout, and headed by a powerfully-built man, with a face as black as that of a mulatto, and armed with a cutlass, the rabble leapt over the barricades, and rushed towards the vehicle. The aunt rushed over to her nephew, knelt and wrapped him in her arms. The old man was conducted to Jack's cell by the turnkey, who remained near him during their interview. “Sorry to be so terribly rude, Martin. I worshipped her and subdued myself.
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