“She’s my wife,” the man muttered. It was still so dark, that nothing could be distinguished except the heavy masses of timber by which the premises were surrounded; but as they advanced, lights were visible in some of the windows. Wood," returned Jackson, with the utmost composure; "you're a headborough, and a loyal subject of King George. ” She said. The folds of a thick muslin neckcloth in some degree protected him, but the gash was desperate.
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