It was a reputation by no means deserved. And then the fetters, which were still upon his legs:—how was he to get rid of them? Tired and dispirited, he still wandered on. "Put down your burthen, monster!" shouted Wood, pointing an immense blunderbuss at him. Drummond smoked his cigarette meditatively. ’ He regarded her thoughtfully. " "A child!" thought Wood; it must be the fugitive Darrell.
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