How Jonathan Wild's House was burnt down 458 XXXI. "Too late, master," replied the landlord of the Trumpeter, in a surly tone, for he did not much like the appearance of his customer; "just shut up shop. “Julian! I was worried that. "How have you managed to communicate with him?" Abraham, who had listened attentively to the foregoing conversation,—not a word of which escaped him,—now drew in his breath, and brought his ear closer to the boards. "Suppose he does. “Perhaps for myself I do not mind, but this man is sure to find out some day, and he will not like having been deceived. Upon the pavement near the court lay the porter, who had been prostrated by a blow from the butt-end of a pistol.
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