We already had a place to mislay blame. On regaining his breath, he began to consider whither chance had led him; and, rubbing his eyes to clear his sight, he perceived a sombre pile, with a lofty tower and broad roof, immediately in front of him. ” Courtlaw’s walking stick, which he had been handling, fell with a crash to the ground. "Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack. I mean—I mean to do what I can. In after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran thus— JACK SHEPPARD THE END. ‘Parbleu, is this a moment to be out of town? What is the matter with him that he is out of town when I need him?’ ‘Famous!’ uttered a new voice from the doorway.
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