As Jonathan scarcely expected a more satisfactory result, he made no comment; but, ordering Quilt to continue his search, and not to return until he had found the fugitive, called Abraham Mendez into the house, and shut the door. It would surely be only common politeness to drop her a hint—a fellow countrywoman too. It had been easy to steal. She paced restlessly to the door and back again, biting her tongue on the hot words begging to be uttered. He seemed inexorable, and inscrutable as fate itself. CHAPTER XI.
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