" At the mention of the latter occurrence, a dark cloud gathered upon the stranger's brow. Or had she, like himself, been held up until the fellow returned to town? He waited, his ready humour anticipating her likely reaction. In and out of consciousness she sailed, hearing voices from memory that she could not distinguish from reality. 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. ’ ‘Pottiswick, you mean, miss?’ ‘Yes, yes. "Hold!" interposed Thames, "he can do no more mischief. William Kneebone, Of me, Sir, you shall never be bone. "I wanted you to know.
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