Before any assistance could be rendered by the jailers, who stood astounded, Blueskin had got Wild in his clutches. The struggles of the wounded man were desperate—so desperate, that in his agony he overset the table, and, in the confusion, tore off the cloth, and disclosed a face horribly mutilated, and streaming with blood. She let him have it all, as it was, after all, for the last time. . Filled as he was with conflicting emotions, any stretch of silence would be dangerous.
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