He saw the expression on the girl's face and understood what it signified, that it was the reflected pattern of his own. Her hand came up and she laced her fingers with his. "Goodness only knows what he's reserved for," rejoined the widow in a desponding tone; "but if Mynheer Van Galgebrok, whom I met last night at the Cross Shovels, spoke the truth, little Jack will never die in his bed. Now do you see his motive?" "I see nothing but your danger," replied his mother, tenderly.
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