"My name is Kneebone," added the portly personage, stepping forward. Kneebone helped to the pigeon-pie; while Thames unwired and uncorked a bottle of stout Carnarvonshire ale. He swore that I was his wife, and—I shot him, Nigel, as his arms were closing around me. His struggles were so violent, that, being a man of tremendous strength, it was some time before they could master him, and it required the combined efforts of all the four partners to put him into irons. "Do not despair, my sweet soul," said Wood, in a soothing tone. "The devil you have!" thundered a voice from behind, that filled the apprentice with dismay. “I know you very well by sight, Sir John. “Boys!” said Capes.
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