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Updated: May 14, 2025


I shall trust the execution of my plan to no one but myself. But I must have time." "Time! perdition, sir! delay in this matter is fraught with danger! Listen, sir! How Warfield got possession of this girl or the knowledge of her history I do not know, except that it was through the agency of that accursed hag Nancy Grewell. But that he has her and that he knows all about her is but too certain.

With a haughty wave of the hand, he bade them resume their seats, and beckoning their leader, said: "Donald, I would have a word with you!" "At your command, colonel!" said the outlaw, rising and taking a candle and leading the way into the adjoining room, the same in which fourteen years before old Granny Grewell and the child had been detained.

All that I have discovered after the strictest inquiry that I was enabled to make, is this that the old beggar woman that died and was buried at Major Warfield's expense, was no other than Nancy Grewell, returned that the night before she died she sent for Major Warfield and had a long talk with him, and that shortly afterward the old scoundrel traveled to the north and brought home this girl!"

"The Old Road Inn," described in the dying deposition of poor Nancy Grewell, was situated some miles from Hurricane Hall, by the side of a forsaken turnpike in the midst of a thickly wooded, long and narrow valley, shut in by two lofty ranges of mountains.

"'Twasn't altogether her long hair, your honor, for I had seen her before, having known her when she lived with old Mrs. Grewell in Rag Alley," interrupted the officer. "You may sit down, my child," said the Recorder, in a tone of encouragement. With caution judge of probability, Things deemed unlikely, e'en impossible, Experience oft hath proven to be true. Shakespeare.

It burdeneth the brain, It maketh even the little child To murmur and complain." "It is not much I have to tell," began Capitola. "I was brought up in Rag Alley and its neighborhood by an old woman named Nancy Grewell." "Ah!" ejaculated Old Hurricane. "She was a washwoman, and rented one scantily furnished room from a poor family named Simmons." "Oh!" cried Old Hurricane.

I shall trust the execution of my plan to no one but myself. But I must have time." "Time! perdition, sir! delay in this matter is fraught with danger! Listen, sir! How Warfield got possession of this girl or the knowledge of her history I do not know, except that it was through the agency of that accursed hag Nancy Grewell. But that he has her and that he knows all about her is but too certain.

The old man adjusted his spectacles and gave her a scrutinizing look, exclaiming at intervals: "Lord bless my soul, it is! it ain't! it must! it can't be! Granny Grewell, the the the midwife that disappeared from here some twelve or thirteen years ago!" "Yes, master, I am Nancy Grewell, the ladies' nurse, who vanished from sight so mysteriously some thirteen years ago," replied the woman.

"It is some thirteen years ago," began Granny Grewell, "upon just such a night of storm as this, that I was mounted on my old mule Molly, with my saddlebags full of dried yarbs and 'stilled waters and sich, as I allus carried when I was out 'tendin' on the sick. I was on my way a-going to see a lady as I was sent for to 'tend.

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