What's all this about, anyhow? You. “But I must, I will,” he answered fiercely. In that case I'll help you. I'm not quite such a greenhorn as Shotbolt, Jack, whatever you may think. Throwing the blanket over his left arm and shouldering the iron bar, he again clambered up the chimney; regained the Red Room; hurried along the first passage; crossed the Chapel; threaded the entry to the Lower Leads; and, in less than ten minutes after quitting the Castle, had reached the northern extremity of the prison. " "Most likely," observed Jonathan, with a slight sneer; "the ghost of some highwayman who has just breathed his last in Newgate, no doubt.
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