How Jack Sheppard got rid of his Irons 429 XXVI. Bounding the corner of a garden wall, he came upon his former place of imprisonment. His next occupation was to take out his pistols, examine the priming, and rub the flints. "It is the fiend!" she exclaimed, recoiling. ‘But a week and some days,’ answered Valade. " "I hope not," replied Wild. He's more like a lord than—" As she spoke, steps were heard approaching; the door was thrown open, and a young man marched boldly into the room.
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