The policemen were closing in from the sides to intervene. " "Unpossible, master," rejoined Ben; "the tide's running down like a mill-sluice, and the wind's right in our teeth. ’ ‘I thank you,’ Gerald said drily. But the sheer immensity of the tract! James Boyle was certainly up against it, hard. On receiving the warning note from the ostler, Jack Sheppard and his companion left Willesden, and taking—as a blind—the direction of Harrow, returned at nightfall by a by-lane to Neasdon, and put up at a little public-house called the Spotted Dog. “And what was that dreadful confession you had to make?” he was saying.
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