It was still raining heavily, and profoundly dark. " "From some of your associates?" "From your uncle, from my uncle,—Sir Rowland Trenchard. There he sat as before, with the heavy fetters on his limbs, and beside him sat his three companions, who had since expiated their offences on the gibbet. I loved her so much. Advancing to the middle of the chamber, he halted, drew himself up, and fixed his dark, expressive eyes, on Thames Darrell.
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