And then the fetters, which were still upon his legs:—how was he to get rid of them? Tired and dispirited, he still wandered on. "Look at these fetters," returned Thames, holding up his manacled wrists; "they were put on by my uncle's command. CHAPTER VI. Clotilde’s stunning green eyes were reflected in the gazes of the tender young children, but their faces had been hollow and sunken, their hair matted, and their clothing in bad need of repair.
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