Acquainted with every part of the jail, Jack well knew that his only chance of effecting an escape must be by the roof. ” He looked at her gravely. "Will that do?" he added, returning it. "It is the fiend!" she exclaimed, recoiling. He told some of the particulars. “Round midnight, I think. Deuce take it! I was very near spelling my name with one P. A native of Manchester, he was the son of Kenelm Kneebone, a staunch Catholic, and a sergeant of dragoons, who lost his legs and his life while fighting for James the Second at the battle of the Boyne, and who had little to bequeath his son except his laurels and his loyalty to the house of Stuart.
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