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. And God had let him do it! He was—and now he perfectly understood that he was—treading the queerest labyrinth a man had ever entered. That there Frenchie didn’t look any too friendly to me. Nothing else matters. He had meant to be master of his fate that evening and it had escaped him altogether. I should say that having a doubt was enough to condemn it. The Times slipped from his fingers. “Won’t you give me your address?” She shook her head.
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