"Wet your whistle before you start, Jack," said Kneebone, pouring out a glass of ale. "Do you not know me, father?" said the young man, advancing towards him, and warmly grasping his hand. Jonathan, meanwhile, maintained profound secrecy as to his hopes of capturing the fugitive; and when Jack was brought back to Newgate on the Sunday evening, his arrival was wholly unexpected. You must think of this evening, John, sometimes—as a sort of atonement.
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