I must go to-night, or I shall never behold him again. “I repeat, gentlemen,” he said, in an ominously low tone, “what of it?” Drummond shrugged his shoulders. She breathed deeply, and he breathed sympathetically. The sunshine was brilliant, the air mild. Here Marvel, the executioner, who was in attendance, was commanded by Wild to tie his thumbs together, which he did with whipcord so tightly, that the string cut to the bone.
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