“It’s okay. Wood's anxiety respecting the fugitive was speedily relieved by hearing another waterman busy himself in preparation for starting; and, shortly after, the dip of a second pair of oars sounded upon the river. Her face expressed nothing. Give me your hand. "Take the prisoners below, Nab," said Jonathan, addressing the dwarfish Jew; "I'll join you in an instant. She is no longer mine; she is yours. Thanks. Nothing, in short, portable or valuable was left.
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