"Has he escaped?" asked the thief-taker, faintly. "Wet your whistle before you start, Jack," said Kneebone, pouring out a glass of ale. There is no future for me here. And, with a glance of malignant exultation, he quitted the vault, and locked the door. John looked at his feet bashfully. Seconds went by, and the cannon fired just as Rhea descended upon Lucy.
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