As she looked in this direction, the thief-taker raised his eyes—those gray, blood-thirsty eyes!—their glare froze the life-blood in her veins. "Oh God! how fearfully my father is avenged!" "True," replied Jack, sternly; "but we have our uncle to avenge. She had never been "My child" or "My dear"; always her name—Ruth. John turned toward the short staircase as she alit upon the first creaky step. Here was not the individual against whom she had been warned. “I am sorry,” he said slowly. Seems Enschede's daughter ran away and left him, and he's combing the islands in search of her.
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