By the light of a torch borne at the stern of the hostile wherry, he saw that the pursuers had approached within a short distance of the object of their quest. '—'Pretty well,' says I; 'you're not badly off at the Friars, for that matter. "What's that?" demanded McClintock. Paintings sold off the walls. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat.
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