I may as well think. "He's not my son," rejoined the carpenter. E. "First take the child," cried Darrell, holding up the infant, and clinging to the oar with a dying effort. But with returning breath came returning vociferations; and the carpenter, with a faint hope of lessening the clamour by change of scene, took up his lantern, opened the door, and walked out. Not a bark could be discerned on the river, except those already mentioned.
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