Young and old were dressed in their gayest apparel; and it was evident from the smiles that lighted up every countenance, from the roguish looks of the younger swains, and the demure expression of several pretty rustic maidens, that a ceremony, which never fails to interest all classes,—a wedding,—was about to take place. ‘Good God!’ uttered Roding. This time they would call it murder. ’ ‘Yes, but I need a word with Gerald,’ protested the captain, hanging back. The baby boy was delivered in a sea of black blood, born dead and blue, and strangled by plague. He handed Ruth a letter.
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