Uttering a faint scream, she sank backwards, and would have fallen, if it had not been for the interposition of Blueskin, who, at that moment, staggered into the room with a candle in one hand, and the bottle in the other. "Is it you?" "It is," replied Sheppard, as he untied the cords. On their return, the jailers raised up Jonathan, who was weltering in his blood, and who appeared to be dying. His manner was deferential, even eager. "I knew him at once.
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