In the midst of them there was a cart with a man in it—and that man was Jack—my son Jack—they were going to hang him. Hastening to the spot where he had tied his horse to a tree, he vaulted into the saddle, and rode off across the fields,—for he was fearful of encountering the hostile party,—till he reached the Edgeware Road. " "Blueskin's only chance would be to carry his threat into effect," pursued the woollen-draper. “But your sister?” he asked. "It's an ill wind that blows nobody good," thought the carpenter, turning his attention to the child, whose feeble struggles and cries proclaimed that, as yet, life had not been extinguished by the hardships it had undergone.
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