It was now getting dusk, and he could only imperfectly distinguish the features and figure of the stranger. " "If you mean the fugitive, Darrell, he has escaped through the back window," replied Jonathan. Amongst others, Mr. " "Bless you for it. " "Why how's this?" exclaimed Jonathan. The tears were welling over now, but her voice was steady. Nothing material occurred to Newgate, until the memorable year 1666, when it was utterly destroyed by the Great Fire. She remained for some seconds crouching at the fender, poker in hand.
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