Upon the steps leading to the gates of the church stood two persons whom Jack instantly recognised. There were some deepseated fears of the rot spreading to England, if the simmering discontent of the peasantry of France were to erupt any further. Both advanced towards it, when, by the light of the lantern, Wood beheld, in the countenance of the stranger, the well-remembered and stern features of Rowland. Wood, at the top of her voice. " "Perhaps so," rejoined the stranger; "but I have others in reserve, not so generally known. “Thank you, Martin,” she replied graciously.
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