"Come, then," said Wild, marching towards the door, "we've no time to lose. Have you done the trick at Dollis Hill?—brought off the swag—eh?" "No," answered Jack, flinging himself sullenly into a chair, "I've not. A stout wooden shutter, opening inwardly, being removed, disclosed a grating of iron bars. " A prophecy which was to be fulfilled in a singular way.
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