Arrived at the audience-chamber, he set down the light upon a stand, threw open the door, and announced in a loud voice, but with the perfect intonation of the person he represented,—"Sir Rowland Trenchard. "Fire!—murder—thieves!—I've got one of 'em!" "Come along," cried Jack. "Jack Sheppard," returned the boy, fixing his eyes upon a portrait of the Earl of Mar. And we are not traders looking at equivalents.
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