His next occupation was to take out his pistols, examine the priming, and rub the flints. Advancing with a slow firm step to the stone-block he placed his left foot upon it, drew himself up to his full height, and fixed a look so stern upon Jonathan, that the thief-taker quailed before it. Lucy sat paralyzed, as still as Tiger Lily on the death raft. “Lord!” she said. They would be partners only in loneliness. “I think we are growing sensible,” he said.
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