I swore I would bring your husband to the gallows,—would plunge you in such want, such distress, that you should have no alternative but the last frightful resource of misery,—and I also swore, that if you had a son he should share the same fate as his father. “All’s well that ends well,” he said; “and the less one says about things the better. Meanwhile, the mob outside had prodigiously increased, and had begun to exhibit some disposition to riot. His name was Sebastianus. He waved a hand toward the sea.
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