Not a word was uttered for some time, nor any sound heard except the stilled sobs of the unfortunate mother. Occasionally he relit his pipe. They could no longer stay in one place. " "Poor child!" muttered Trenchard, abstractedly; "the whole scene upon the river is passing before me. But if he speaks—I fear what he may tell. Sheppard; "never! never!" "Halloa! what's this?" demanded Blueskin, springing to his feet.
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