" "Come, Sir!" thundered the latter, "no trifling! Perhaps," he added, opening a warrant, "you'll obey this mandate?" "A warrant!" ejaculated Kneebone, starting to his feet. In fact, the reflection of the flames lighted up the ward in which Jack Sheppard was confined. Wow. The smell of gunpowder was strong in the room. Superimposed was the agitating thought of what would follow the death of this unwelcome guest: confusion, poking authorities, British and American red tape.
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