The infant was rescued from a watery-grave by an honest mechanic, who has since brought him up as his own son. “You cannot! Oh, you cannot. Were it not for your voice, I don't think I should know you. Her aunt went off at a tangent. I'll call for you after lunch. By the time he had reached the summit of this hill, he had lost all trace of them; and the ardour of the chase having in some measure subsided, he began to reproach himself for his folly, in having wandered—as he conceived—so far out of his course.
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