Fatigued by his previous exertions, and incumbered by his fetters, he was by no means—though ordinarily remarkably swift of foot—a match for his foes, who were fast gaining upon him. All that I regret are the wasted years, and I am not sure that I regret them. But if not himself, there would be another soon enough. " "Hear me, Blueskin," said Jonathan, restraining his choler. "These are my terms, Sir Rowland," he added, taking a sheet of paper from his pocket, and pushing it towards the knight. The Trenchard estates will likewise be mine, for Sir Rowland is no more, and the youth, Thames, will never again see daylight.
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