Before any assistance could be rendered by the jailers, who stood astounded, Blueskin had got Wild in his clutches. There sat Jack, evidently in the last stage of intoxication, with his collar opened, his dress disarranged, a pipe in his mouth, a bowl of punch and a halfemptied rummer before him,—there he sat, receiving and returning, or rather attempting to return,—for he was almost past consciousness,—the blandishments of a couple of females, one of whom had passed her arm round his neck, while the other leaned over the back of his chair and appeared from her gestures to be whispering soft nonsense into his ear. “This isn’t furtive,” said Ann Veronica. "Thames, I entreat—" "Your wishes are my laws, beloved, girl," replied Kneebone, bowing profoundly. "Release her instantly, villain!" Both Winifred and her suitor started at this sudden apparition. “Don’t think that I have been playing the spy upon you,” he continued. Why not? Quite willing. There is worse to come. The wretch you confide in has sworn to hang you.
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