The inn was a military haunt. It was Annabel’s. Warm reality was now so near her she could hear it beating in her ears. “I believe that you are quite safe. " At the door of this tavern, which was situated on the left of the street, not more than a hundred yards distant from the church, the bell of which began to toll as soon as the procession came in sight, the cart drew up, and the whole cavalcade halted. Fly! fly!" "Do not think of me, mother, but of yourself," cried Jack, in an agony of tears.
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