"To him I owe everything," continued the widow, "life itself—nay, more than life,—for without his assistance I should have perished, body and soul. Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse. "Let us in," said the Master, rapping his truncheon authoritatively against the boards, "or we'll force an entrance. The morning of Monday the 16th of November 1724 at length dawned.
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