“I know that our social order is dreadful enough,” he said, “and sacrifices all that is best and most beautiful in life. “I have not the least idea who he is. Let him be sure. ” Capes watched the limpid water dripping from his oar. Full twenty highwaymen blithe and bold, Rattled their chains in that dungeon old; Of all that number there 'scaped not one Who carved his name on the Newgate Stone. He had just arrived from Manchester, whence he had been summoned by that treacherous thief-taker.
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