In the midst of them there was a cart with a man in it—and that man was Jack—my son Jack—they were going to hang him. From a scout stationed at the northern entrance, whom she addressed in the jargon of the place, with which long usage had formerly rendered her familiar, she ascertained that Blueskin, accompanied by a youth, whom she knew by the description must be her son, had arrived there about three hours before, and had proceeded to the Cross Shovels. Did you grow up at the Valade estates? You were born a Valade, I take it, even though your father is English. There was already a score or more of people there, some standing up and talking together, others seated in chairs ranged along the wall. He was a handsome man, and Lucy could see the strong resemblance of John to him.
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