Gerald at once rid himself of his own glass and leapt to her assistance. "'Tis a cruel thing you've done, lad. " He opened his eyes again. " "What has he done?" "What did he have to drink over here last night?" "Not even water. You didn’t even put the twelve words. Her lover, Darrell, has embarked upon the Thames, where, if he's not capsized by the squall, (for it's blowing like the devil,) he stands a good chance of getting his throat cut by his pursuers—ha! ha! I tracked 'em to the banks of the river, and should have followed to see it out, if the watermen hadn't refused to take me. "Go to the pump, Nab," he said, when this was done, "and fill a pail with water. Go and prepare for our departure.
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