Her secret thoughts made some hasty, half-hearted excursions into the possibility of telling the thing in romantic tones—Ramage was as a black villain, she as a white, fantastically white, maiden. There would be no mercy in this man. He grunted a little with effort, and she realised the gilt frame must be heavy. On that morning the death warrant had arrived from Windsor, ordering Sheppard for execution, (since his capture by Jonathan Wild in Bedlam, as related in a former chapter, Jack had been tried, convicted, and sentenced to death,) together with three other malefactors on the following Friday. Shoving between them, she confronted the captain herself. " "When you please, Sir," said Thames, coldly. The salt air was fresher than the stale air in the manor. The Lord have mercy upon you!" This ceremony concluded, the calvacade was again put in motion.
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