"Whose child can this be?" "How the devil should I know!" replied Jonathan gruffly. " "Sir Rowland Trenchard!" echoed Jack, in amazement. Gashes on his arms were already beginning to heal and disappear. Just as he was preparing to follow, the wherry containing Rowland and his men, which had drifted in their wake, was dashed against his boat. McClintock could not browbeat him, storm as he might. “Well, rather,” said Ann Veronica.
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