Kneebone's house, the young man hastened to a hotel in the neighbourhood of Covent Garden, where, having procured a horse, he shaped his course towards the west end of the town. “I supposed that he took off his hat to you. There was no need to be afraid for me. "Heaven help us!" he exclaimed; "we were mad to neglect the old sailor's advice. “Well, anyhow, consider it open. . When he awoke, it was late in the day; but though he heard voices outside, and now and then caught a glimpse of a face peeping at him through the iron grating over the door, no one entered the prison, or held any communication with him.
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