" Sir Rowland, meantime, throw himself on his knees beside his sister, and, clasping her chilly fingers within his own, besought her forgiveness in the most passionate terms. For hours after she had not been sensible to life, only to exquisite echoes. A door, it may be remembered, opened from Wild's dwelling into this yard. Amid the confusion, Shotbolt sprang to his feet, and levelling a pistol at Jack's head, commanded him to surrender; but, before any reply could be made, the jailer's arm was struck up by Blueskin, who, throwing himself upon him, dragged him to the ground. “Lucy! You found me! I was just about to sleep some of those rum and Cokes off like the pig I am. " Here the chapmen set up another boisterous peal.
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