The grate was full of fluttering ashes of burnt paper, and the easy chair near the fire had evidently been used. "It is her child!" shrieked Rowland, in a voice heard above the howling of the tempest, "risen from this roaring abyss to torment me. As Wood obeyed, his foot slipped; and, casting his eyes upon the floor, he perceived it splashed in several places with blood.
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