Jack was completely overcome. On their return, the jailers raised up Jonathan, who was weltering in his blood, and who appeared to be dying. In all these weeks she had not once knelt to pray. Having once more got into the chimney, he climbed to a level with the ward above, and recommenced operations as vigorously as before. "To-night it is their turn," said Jonathan, binding up his wounded fingers with a handkerchief. She had called the police on them anonymously.
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