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. His face was a little flushed perhaps, and his small, brown eyes were bright. " "Quite the contrary," rejoined the woollen-draper, laughing good-humouredly. “I have spoken too many truths to-night.
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