" "Not necessarily. But his gloom appeared to be occasioned by remorse, rather than sorrow. The skipper obeyed, and in another moment, they swept through the narrow lock. Capes—the ‘Capes crave,’ they would call it in America. In after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran thus— JACK SHEPPARD THE END. As Spurlock called her name, she paused and turned. ’ ‘A French ghost?’ ‘Well, it ain’t a rat this time, Major, I can promise you that,’ Pottiswick had rejoined, his tone affronted. Pardon what I have said, Madam. He laughed lightly. At this moment, the landlord of the Crown, a jovial-looking stout personage, with a white apron round his waist, issued from the house, bearing a large wooden bowl filled with ale, which he offered to Jack, who instantly rose to receive it. ” Lucy added, growing weary.
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