" "'Sblood!" cried Jackson, rising, "I can't sit still and hear Mr. Marvel, who proceeded to the cart, and took his seat upon the coffin. To return was impossible,—to raise himself certain destruction. "It was given me by a man who was drinking t'other night with Blueskin at the Lion! and who, though he slouched his hat over his eyes, and muffled his chin in a handkerchief, must have been Jonathan Wild. None this end. "Close the wicket, Austin," vociferated Ireton, in an authoritative tone.
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