Master and missis have been talking all day long about Jack Sheppard, and I'm dying to read his life. " "I will go, if you will consent to meet me at midnight near the old house in Wych Street," replied Jack. She dared not say the word aloud, not even to herself. A little inn flying a Swiss flag nestles under a great rock, and there they put aside their knapsacks and lunched and rested in the mid-day shadow of the gorge and the scent of resin. But he had scarcely advanced a step, when he was felled to the ground by a blow from the powerful arm of Kneebone, who, instantly possessing himself of a pistol, levelled it at Jackson's head.
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