The grate was full of fluttering ashes of burnt paper, and the easy chair near the fire had evidently been used. In this hour its colossal selfishness never occurred to him. Cautioning the knight, if he valued his neck, to tread carefully, Jonathan then descended a steep flight of steps; and, having reached the bottom in safety, he pushed open a door, that swung back on its hinges as soon as it had admitted him; and, followed by Trenchard, entered the night-cellar. If Jack Sheppard or his mother ever enter this house again, I leave it—that's all. Abruptly would come the end. But Blueskin was not to be silenced.
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