The third time she escaped she reached the inconsequent barricade of the overturned table. "By desire of his Majesty," said the jailer, consequentially. Daybreak found her winding her painful way along the Harrow Road; and, in order to shorten the distance as much as possible, she took the nearest cut, and struck into the meadows on the right. The boy she had loved was gone. . The shouts drew nearer, and lights were seen flashing ruddily against the sides and gables of the neighbouring houses. The rain smelled of the Tyrrhenian Sea, which lay only a few paces beyond the manor's white sea-soaked walls. “I am a fool,” he said. But here she met with a check.
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