All the turnkeys rose to salute the thief-taker, whose habitually-sullen countenance looked gloomier than usual. Jack, meanwhile, with Blueskin's assistance, had set the table once more upon its legs, and placing writing materials, which he took from a shelf, upon it, made Shotbolt, who was still gagged, but whose arms were for the moment unbound, sit down before them. There was no way to warn her of his presence without startling her. You heard her.
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