When in the plenitude of his power, he commenced a terrible trade, till then unknown—namely, a traffic in human blood. " "From some of your associates?" "From your uncle, from my uncle,—Sir Rowland Trenchard. There it is. Kneebone, and feeling certain of capturing him if he did so, Shotbolt, on quitting Newgate, hurried to the New Prison to prepare for the enterprise. His shoulders were bent, his face was furrowed with wrinkles.
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