Blueskin, however, was not unattended. Awful shapes seemed to flit by, borne on the wings of the tempest, animating and directing its fury. "Have nine years so changed me, that there is no trace left of your adopted son?" "God bless me!" ejaculated the carpenter, rubbing his eyes, "can—can it be?" "Surely," screamed Mrs. Sebastian leapt down into the crypt. "My coat!" Ruth did not move but stared astonishedly at the patient. "Set down the kid," roared Blueskin, savagely.
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