‘What are the chances, do you think, of that thing being already cocked?’ ‘Probably not even loaded,’ suggested Hilary hopefully. No one spoke, and she was impelled to flounder on. Of this man Kneebone resolved to go in pursuit; and leaving Jack in charge of the constable, he proceeded to the small inn,—which bore then, as it bears now, the name of the Six Bells,—where, summoning the hostler, his steed was instantly brought him, and, springing on its back, he rode away at full speed. This roof is still open to you. ‘I’ll wager that militiaman never rode the animal, then. ‘Nothing. These were his mistresses, Poll Maggot and Edgeworth Bess. I MUST pay off that forty pounds.
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