"Hold!" interposed Thames, "he can do no more mischief. The thief-taker's throat was bound up with thick folds of linen, and his face had a ghastly and cadaverous look, which communicated an undefinable and horrible expression to his glances. She accepted his rejoinder with a brief nod. “Where have you been? All these hours I have been calling for you. ’ ‘Damn you, I should have beaten you,’ Gerald swore, holding fast to his corner of the little square of linen. "There'll be a louder echo here presently," thought Jonathan. "You can render no further service to your poor mother. Satisfied, as he thought, that he had nothing to apprehend, the boy resumed his task, chanting, as he plied his knife with redoubled assiduity, the following—not inappropriate strains:— THE NEWGATE STONE. I've a few necessary directions to leave with my people, to put 'em on their guard against the chance of a surprise.
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