"Off with you to Newgate!" cried Jack, "and don't let him out till you get inside the Lodge. Stanley professed a great solicitude to warm his hands. Sheppard, as a storm of furious voices resounded from below, and torches were seen mounting the stairs; "they are coming!—they are coming!—fly!—to the roof! to the roof. . . "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. It creaked slightly.
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