"A fall against Newgate is accounted a sign of death by the halter," replied Wild, with ill-disguised malignity. Though scarcely two hours past midnight, it was perfectly light. She began to weep in long, aching sobs. Down on your marrow-bones, sirrah! Confess your guilt, and Sir Rowland may yet save you from the gallows. " "Not quite, I hope," rejoined Sheppard. This time there wasn't any doubt. As soon as they had got out, the vehicle was drawn up at the back of a tree near the cage. No: I must face it out.
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