In the midst of them there was a cart with a man in it—and that man was Jack—my son Jack—they were going to hang him. ‘Jacques, you have been very much my friend. But Bess could scarcely summon resolution enough to hazard the experiment; and it was only on Jack's urgent intreaties, and even threats, that she could be prevailed on to trust herself to the frail tenure of the rope he had prepared. ‘It does not seem to me that you can be an emissary for that pig. .
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