Ruth stared into the painted face, now sundrily cracked by the coursing tears. "My mother!—my poor mother!" ejaculated Thames, falling on his knees, and bursting into tears. The girl regarded him with the face of a Sphinx. 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. We shall have him on his return.
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