Disperse in every direction. He was plainly attired in a riding-dress and boots of the period, and wore a hanger by his side. The struggles of the wounded man were desperate—so desperate, that in his agony he overset the table, and, in the confusion, tore off the cloth, and disclosed a face horribly mutilated, and streaming with blood. " "And, what good would that do?" replied Ireton, sarcastically. Wood, "and I'm sorry and surprised he hasn't swung for his crimes before this. .
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