There was a gallows erected, and a great mob round it—thousands of people, and all with white faces like corpses. The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally. While he was filling his pockets with golden coin from this store, Blueskin had pulled the plate-chest from under the bed, and having forced it open, began filling a canvass bag with its contents,—silver coffee-pots, chocolate-dishes, waiters trays, tankards, goblets, and candlesticks.
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