It was his heart. "My heart," rejoined Thames, firmly; "which now tells me I am in the presence of his murderer. . "Now's your time," cried Blueskin, struggling desperately with his assailants and inflicting severe cuts with his knife. ‘More nor that. The funeral procession had now approached the grave, around which many of the congregation, who were deeply interested by the sad ceremonial, had gathered. Glancing towards him she saw that a shadow had fallen upon his face. “You are an impostor.
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