CHAPTER XXI McClintock's island was twelve miles long and eight miles wide, with the shape of an oyster. That is the dreadful truth. You are my prisoner, murderer. Look at it, I say. Sheppard trembled violently; and though she understood his meaning too well, she answered,—"I can't guess. She could no longer wait. Guiding this man of hers over the troubled sea of life had engraved these lines.
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