"What has put it into your head that your son yet lives?" he asked. The horse-soldiers wheeled round and cleared a path: the foot closed in upon the cart. Wood made no reply; but, hastily kissing his weeping daughter, and bidding her be of good cheer, hurried off. Darrell stood erect in the bark, with his drawn sword in hand, prepared to repel the attack of his assailants, who, in their turn, seemed to await with impatience the moment which should deliver him into their power.
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