This obstacle removed, he thought he might now make the attempt. ’ ‘You ain’t never!’ ‘Back to your post, Trodger,’ ordered the harassed captain. Satisfied, as he thought, that he had nothing to apprehend, the boy resumed his task, chanting, as he plied his knife with redoubled assiduity, the following—not inappropriate strains:— THE NEWGATE STONE. I feel years younger, a man again. Then blackness.
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