There was the stile on which Jonathan had sat, and he recollected distinctly the effect of his mocking glance— how it had hardened his heart against his mother's prayer. "Where is it?" "Are you the mother of this child?" inquired the person who had first spoken, addressing Mrs. ’ ‘Yes, but what is it, Jacques?’ demanded the lady. Opening the trap-door, he then descended to the vaults —searched each cell, and every nook and corner separately. .
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