"Bravo, Poll!" cried Jack, who having again pinioned Shotbolt, was now tracing a few hasty lines on a sheet of paper. She breathed deeply, and he breathed sympathetically. As soon as he had gained his feet, he glanced round the bare blank walls of the cell, and, oppressed by the musty, close atmosphere, exclaimed, "I'll let a little fresh air into this dungeon. How Jack Sheppard got out of the Condemned Hold. I can pull the strings of this stiff-necked puppet as I please.
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