And then the fetters, which were still upon his legs:—how was he to get rid of them? Tired and dispirited, he still wandered on. My father thought the latter. He felt that he might soon be separated—perhaps, for ever—from the fond little creature he held in his arms, whom he had always regarded with the warmest fraternal affection, and the thought of how much she would suffer from the separation so sensibly affected him, that he could not help joining in her grief. “They have no plans for us.
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