"Hark 'ee, Ben," said the old sailor, knocking the ashes from his pipe upon the hob; "you may try, but dash my timbers if you'll ever cross the Thames to-night. "Heard of your escapes. Both girls looked pale and listless. But I've an old friend on the way here, and he knows the game down there. "My child!" he groaned faintly. The wounded man had descended the bridge, and dashed himself against the door beyond it; but, finding it impossible to force his way further, he turned to confront his assailants.
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