"Poor Jack!" cried Winifred, burying her face in her lover's bosom. ” “You haven’t answered my question. His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. “What of her? Have you quarrelled with her?” The girl shook her head. I'm sorry. Within that dungeon lay Captain Bew, Rumbold and Whitney—a jolly crew! All carved their names on the stone, and all Share the fate of the brave Du Val! With their chisels so fine, tra la! "Save us!" continued the apprentice, "I hope this beam doesn't resemble the Newgate stone; or I may chance, like the great men the song speaks of, to swing on the Tyburn tree for my pains. Having ascertained that Thames was at his heels, he hurried with his ghastly burthen down Seacoal Lane.
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