Some years ago, in 1715, just before the Rebellion, I was rash enough to league myself with the Jacobite party, and by Wild's machinations got clapped into Newgate, whence I was glad to escape with my head upon my shoulders. She was perhaps as near tears as ever before in her life. Ah, Thierry and Poussaint, if my memory serves me. All the rest of his existence was subordinate to this pursuit; he lived for it, worked for it, kept himself in training for it. She turned quickly. "Stop a minute," cried Jack, detaining his mistresses.
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