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Long ago. Before he could draw in the rein, his steed—startled apparently by some object undistinguishable by the rider,—swerved with such suddenness as to unseat him, and precipitate him on the ground. ‘Good God! Everett Charvill, as I live. "We work together no more. It rained slightly, and a thick mist gathered in the air, and obscured the beautiful prospect. The sounds that reach the ear, and the objects that meet the eye, are all calculated to awaken a train of sad and serious contemplation.
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