I am quite sure that I do not know you. Ha! ha! What have I left but despair and madness? Promise me one thing, Mr. Wood, with a message for Lady Trafford. Beside me on Anna’s table was a pistol. Before an hour had elapsed, the concourse was fearfully increased. He was roused from the stupor of despair into which he had sunk by the voice of Ben, who roared in his ear, "The bridge!—the bridge!" CHAPTER VII.
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