Then the dagger’s point came in a whirling arc towards his face. " Neither man spoke. He passed, and came loitering back and stood beside her, silently looking into her face. ” “Well”—her breath failed her for a moment. In after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran thus— JACK SHEPPARD THE END. She said there was no other way to get them to stop their constant screaming. Sheppard, vainly trying to discover a gleam of compassion in the thief-taker's inexorable countenance,—"Mercy! mercy!" "Pshaw!" rejoined Jonathan. "I don't know," she answered vaguely.
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