Some years ago, in 1715, just before the Rebellion, I was rash enough to league myself with the Jacobite party, and by Wild's machinations got clapped into Newgate, whence I was glad to escape with my head upon my shoulders. Rain started to pummel the roof of the pavilion, which coalesced into sheets and rumbled to the cement below. "By my shalvation, boy," he added, fiercely, "if you don't take your hande off my peard, I'll sthrangle you.
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