I wouldn't accept my life from him. It was a brief solitude, however. "Well, what sort of journey have you had, Quilt?" asked the man as he hastened to assist Sir Rowland to dismount. Darting forward at this sound, Jack threw open the door, and beheld Quilt kneeling over Thames, who'se hands and feet were bound with cords, and about to plunge his sword into his breast. Get the men back to their posts.
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