"Where is the boy?" demanded Sir Rowland. . The weather's been foul enough for the last fortnight, but I've never turned my back upon it. "Not so, Sir Rowland," returned Jonathan; "you are my prisoner. ‘This is not a place for a man. "I beg your pardon!… A bit rocky this morning…. ToC On the night of Friday, the 26th of November, 1703, and at the hour of eleven, the door of a miserable habitation, situated in an obscure quarter of the Borough of Southwark, known as the Old Mint, was opened; and a man, with a lantern in his hand, appeared at the threshold. There is Lady Arlingford’s reception to-night, ten till twelve, and the Hatton House ball, marked with a cross, sir, important. "And when I further tell you," continued Jack, "that, after yourself and my mother, I am the next heir to the estates of my grandfather, Sir Montacute Trenchard, you will perhaps own that my caution is sufficiently disinterested.
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