A murmur ran through the assemblage, by several of whom Jack was recognised. Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul. The above description of —the great Figg, by the prize-fighting swains Sole monarch acknowledged of Mary'bone plains— may sound somewhat tame by the side of the glowing account given of him by his gallant biographer, who asserts that "there was a majesty shone in his countenance, and blazed in his actions, beyond all I ever saw;" but it may, possibly, convey a more accurate notion of his personal appearance. He succeeded so well that they were almost in Montague Street before Anna stopped short. Listening attentively, he fancied he heard the breathing of some one near him, and moved cautiously in the opposite direction. "I'll place it to your account, Sir Rowland," answered the thief-taker, smiling significantly. "To-night it is their turn," said Jonathan, binding up his wounded fingers with a handkerchief. With this view, he suffered him to pass on. ” “I am very much afraid,” Anna answered, “that it was.
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