A slow horror was dawning in his fixed eyes. Most of the tables were for those who smoked only and drank wine, but there were a few spread with tablecloths and laid for dinner. "Devil!" cried the widow, catching his arm, and gazing with frantic eagerness in his face, "how many years will you give my son before you execute your terrible threat?" "NINE!" answered Jonathan sternly. By this time, the procession had reached the west end of the wall of St.
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