A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. The rascal will be at work before the morning. "Stay!" said Jonathan, aiding his descent; "you had better take my lantern. —Providence, I mean—HAS arranged it so that men will keep you, more or less. I’ll protect you!” He cried. From this perturbed state he was roused by thoughts of his mother, and fancying he heard her gentle voice urging him on to fresh exertion, he started up. In the beginning it was a dictionary.
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