Amid this varied throng,—varied in appearance, but alike in character,—one object alone, we have said, rivetted Mrs. Pain sliced into Gerald’s hand and his sword arm jerked. She felt she was now near her boy, and, nothing doubting her ability to rescue him from his perilous situation, she breathed a fervent prayer for his deliverance; and bending her steps towards the tavern in question, revolved within her mind as she walked along the best means of accomplishing her purpose. She did not try to approach him.
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