See paragraph 1. I have forgot all about the sword until the capitaine has come. "My coat!" Ruth did not move but stared astonishedly at the patient. ‘You can’t go to England. Kneebone, having been alarmed by something in the widow's look before her feelings found vent in the manner above described, thrust his hand instinctively into his coat in search of his pocket-book,—about the security of which, as it contained several letters and documents implicating himself and others in the Jacobite plot, he was, not unnaturally, solicitous,—and finding it gone, he felt certain he had been robbed. Happen what might, he could not be in a worse position. She directed the orchestra to tune again. Apologizing for their detention, he answered the questions put to him respecting the boys, by positively denying that any such prisoners had been entrusted to his charge, but offered to conduct him to every cell in the building to prove the truth of his assertion.
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