The packets were hastily broken open; and, while Wood was absorbed in the perusal of the despatch addressed to him by Sir Rowland, Thames sought out, and found the letter which he had been prevented from finishing on the fatal night at Jonathan Wild's. His eyes were red. A paralyzing horror was upon her. But whither The Tigress was bound or who the owner was lay beyond the reach of Ah Cum's deductions. Rumors had it he had been a looker in his youth, all long hair and chiseled muscles, but those days were long gone. “But—your people!” she gasped.
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