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. “What the devil do you mean by coming for me like that?” Ennison exclaimed, glowering down upon him. There was a little murmur of consternation from the waiting crowd, and the florid young woman showed signs of temper, to which Mr. “I had found her at last, and she shot me.
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