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"I must open the door;" and, rising, she faced towards the door of the apartment, observing heedfully not to turn back her head, and withdrawing a bolt or two, (for, notwithstanding the miserable appearance of the place, the door was cautiously secured) she lifted the latch,

Brown, who had by this time moved from his post, stood before her as she opened the door. She stepped back a pace, and he entered, instantly recognizing, but with no comfortable sensation, the same gypsey woman whom he had met in Bewcastle. She also knew him at once, and her attitude, figure, and the anxiety of her countenance, assumed the appearance of the well-disposed ogress of a fairy tale, warning a stranger not to enter the