She removed it. ‘Let her go. "You musht do dat shob yourself, Mishter Vild," rejoined Abraham, shaking his head. The poor boy, whose hands were pinioned behind him, looked very pale, but neither trembled, nor exhibited any other symptom of alarm. The costume of this personage was somewhat singular, and might have passed for a masquerading habit, had not the imperturbable gravity of his demeanour forbidden any such supposition. "In the first place, she had no knowledge of her birth; and, consequently, no false pride to get rid of. "Mercy on us!" cried he, as a thrill of apprehension ran through his frame. .
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