‘Or flew in by balloon, perhaps. Dare we look back upon the darkened vista, and, in imagination retrace the path we have trod? With how many vain hopes is it shaded! with how many good resolutions, never fulfilled, is it paved! Where are the dreams of ambition in which, twelve years ago, we indulged? Where are the aspirations that fired us—the passions that consumed us then? Has our success in life been commensurate with our own desires—with the anticipations formed of us by others? Or, are we not blighted in heart, as in ambition? Has not the loved one been estranged by doubt, or snatched from us by the cold hand of death? Is not the goal, towards which we pressed, further off than ever—the prospect before us cheerless as the blank behind?—Enough of this. She passed him silently as she dropped Michelle’s dried corpse into the open clay pit awkwardly, like a discarded doll. Both advanced towards it, when, by the light of the lantern, Wood beheld, in the countenance of the stranger, the well-remembered and stern features of Rowland. " It was only a shade better than the Stone Hold. And here he was first visited by that genius which, in his subsequent career, prompted him to so many bold and successful attempts. Had she said the words aloud? He pulled her close and she nuzzled her head on his chest. He's worth a dozen of you.
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