As soon as he could be moved with safety, Jonathan had himself transported to Newgate, where he was carried into the Middle Ward, that he might feast his eyes upon his victim. " "God help me, what a muddle!" The cigar crumbled in Spurlock's hand. Cocked hats and buckled swords spoke of rank. " "And what course do you propose to pursue in reference to him?" asked Sir Rowland. They stood for a moment in the passage and listened.
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