"It's the skull of a rebel," said Jonathan, with marked emphasis on the word, "blown by the wind from a spike on the bridge above us. But he could only discern a black and shapeless mass, floating upon the water at a little distance, which, to his bewildered fancy, appeared absolutely standing still. You need have no apprehensions about him, Sir Rowland. Why don’t I just go and get the key from Pottiswick?’ Alderley flicked a glance back at him over his shoulder. Wood, with a message for Lady Trafford. Meanwhile, the clergyman, bare-headed and in his surplice, advanced to meet them. “Now step aside, I have some business to attend to. ” “And such a beast of a one,” Sydney remarked vigorously.
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