“Why on earth did you TELL me?” he cried. Place a pistol at my ear, and shoot me, if I've told you false. The idiots are marching through the streets in processions from town to town, whipping their own backs until they are covered in blood, spreading the bloody Pestilence wherever they go! The dead pile in the streets like timber. I am sure I never enjoyed so much popularity in my life. " "Jack's a noble fellow," exclaimed the head-jailer of Clerkenwell Prison, raising his glass; "and, though he played me a scurvy trick, I'll drink to his speedy deliverance.
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