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Cooper, James Fenimore, 1789-1851

"The Wept of Wish-Ton-Wish"

But when by a rapid glance he saw there was
another gazing in dull awe on the features of the fallen man, it was too
late to rectify the mistake. Yells were now rising out of the black smoke,
that was rolling in volumes from the heated buildings, and it was plain
that only a few feet divided them from their pursuers. Beckoning the man
who had been excluded from the block to follow, the stern soldier rushed
into the principal dwelling, which was still but little injured by the
fire. Guided rather by chance than by any knowledge of the windings of the
building, he soon found himself in the chambers. He was now at a loss
whither to proceed. At that moment, his companion, who was no other than
Whittal Ring, took the lead, and in another instant, they were at the door
of the secret apartment.
"Hist!" said the stranger, raising a hand to command silence as he entered
the room. "Our hope is in secrecy."
"And how may we escape without detection?" demanded the mother, pointing
about her at objects illuminated by a light so powerful as to penetrate
every cranny of the ill-constructed building.


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