Pitt?" "There is no mistake, Sir," rejoined the prisoner, drawing himself up, "I am Jack Sheppard. Meanwhile, the mob outside had prodigiously increased, and had begun to exhibit some disposition to riot. Black blood and white bone flew into the corners of the crypt, slathering the dead faces of the corpses left piled in the corner. It is I who took the burden of your misdeeds upon my shoulders that you might become Lady Ferringhall.
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