“Sir John!” Annabel gasped. "Ha!" he exclaimed, with a sudden start, as his glance fell upon the portrait; "how came this into your possession, boy?" "Why don't you answer, sirrah?" cried Wild, in a savage tone, and striking him with the silver staff. I tried to have it out with him, but he wouldn’t have it out. His hair is oddly streaked with gray —I might say a dishonourable gray. Forster? News is expected from Northumberland.
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