During the previous night he had been restless; and in the lonely dragging hours his thoughts had raced in an endless circle—action without progress. " "Very true," chuckled Jackson; "very true. On regaining his breath, he began to consider whither chance had led him; and, rubbing his eyes to clear his sight, he perceived a sombre pile, with a lofty tower and broad roof, immediately in front of him. He will be hanged—hanged—hanged. Jonathan Wild must have stolen it from her. McClintock could not browbeat him, storm as he might. If only to say goodbye.
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