There was a lapse of time, an interval of blackness; then he found his hand in hers and she was leading him at a run up the side of the mountain. At least, I hope so for his sake as well as my own," he added, mentally. "Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack. “You were never born,” he declared, “to follow the well worn roads. Bird, the turner, to give him an order this evening. But the stone was slippery; and the tide, which here began to feel the influence of the fall, was running with frightful velocity. Come into the parlour, Winifred, and dry your eyes directly, or I'll send you to bed.
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