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He reeled, and crashed to the floor. It was Jack, wasn’t it?’ ‘Aye, s-sir. " "You're strangely superstitious, Sir Rowland," said Jonathan, halting, and looking steadfastly at him. I am quite sure though that they did not mean to be rude. Twenty-one, twenty-two. ’ Speeding down the two flights of stairs, Gerald mentally thanked God that it was the practice of himself and Roding—in case of emergency, of which this was a prime example—to stable their horses at the posting inns all the way to London. The chief scene of these disgusting orgies,—the cellar, just referred to,—was a large low-roofed vault, about four feet below the level of the street, perfectly dark, unless when illumined by a roaring fire, and candles stuck in pyramidal lumps of clay, with a range of butts and barrels at one end, and benches and tables at the other, where the prisoners, debtors, and malefactors male and female, assembled as long as their money lasted, and consumed the time in drinking, smoking, and gaming with cards and dice. ‘Major Gerald Alderley, mademoiselle, quite at your service. When I've had an hour's rest, I'll be after Blueskin. The few pence left in her purse would only provide a very scanty lunch.

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