Meanwhile, the mob outside had prodigiously increased, and had begun to exhibit some disposition to riot. S. Spurlock had sensed what had gone completely over McClintock's head—that this was the playing of a soul in damnation. Perhaps Ferringhall has pensioned her off. Jack, meanwhile, with Blueskin's assistance, had set the table once more upon its legs, and placing writing materials, which he took from a shelf, upon it, made Shotbolt, who was still gagged, but whose arms were for the moment unbound, sit down before them.
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