The Foundling of Blackwood Manor
ACT I The storm broke over Yorkshire moors like a hammer upon an anvil. Arthur Blackwood rode through the driving rain with his lantern held high, the candlelight guttering in the gale until it was nothing but a dying ember in his iron cage. He had been to St. Mary's church three miles from the manor, praying for the thing that had eluded him these seven years of marriage. What he found on the...
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