"Allow him that small grace," cried Wood. ’ She dropped to her knees before her old nurse and hugged the workroughened hand with both her own, looking up into Martha’s face where slow tears were tracing down her cheek. "Who is it?" "He didn't give his name, Sir," replied the maid; "but he's a young gentleman. "Write as I dictate," he cried, placing a pen in the jailer's hand and a pistol to his ear.
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