Shotbolt thinks he has a scheme that can't fail," interposed Austin; "but he wishes to know whether you'll be as good as your word, in respect to the great reward you offered for Jack's capture. ‘I wish you joy of the wench. Jack Sheppard's Quarrel with Jonathan Wild. And if you dare to produce any kind of weapon at all,’ he added, taking a plain brass-barrelled little pistol from his own pocket and levelling it, ‘I will have no compunction in blowing off your head, you madcap female. “Wild horses—not if they have all the mounted police in London—shan’t keep me out. " This business over, she returned to the bedside with the key. "I'll see him fettered myself. The wastrel, the ne'er-do-well, who went mostly nobly to a fine end. Pistols and pictures? Now it fair goes agin’ me nature to act rough with a lady, but you’ll come along of me at once.
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