" Immediately he stepped back. Take my child to—it is—oh God!—I am sinking—take it—take it!" "Where?" shouted Wood. After venting his wrath in the wildest manner, and uttering the most dreadful execrations, Jonathan retired to another part of the prison, where he passed the night in consultation with the governor, as to the best means of conveying the prisoner securely to Tyburn. It’s the poor dears who do, who know they will, know they can’t keep it up, who need to clutch at way-side flowers.
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