ToC Mrs. The rear of the party was brought up by a large, powerfully-built man, with a bluff, honest, but rugged countenance, slashed with many a cut and scar, and stamped with that surly, sturdy, bull-dog-like look, which an Englishman always delights to contemplate, because he conceives it to be characteristic of his countrymen. Gerald glanced down and saw her dash at a spread of blood on his own hand, only now realising that her dagger had found its mark. “She wasn’t sane, my wife. But one of these days everything will click back into place. Don't strip me quite. The tail-ender of this little caravan, he had been rather out of it. Both advanced towards it, when, by the light of the lantern, Wood beheld, in the countenance of the stranger, the well-remembered and stern features of Rowland.
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