My name is Wild— Jonathan Wild. ‘Pardon, milor’,’ said Valade, ‘but Monsieur Charvill, he was not at fault. "Hist!" exclaimed Jack. The struggles of the wounded man were desperate—so desperate, that in his agony he overset the table, and, in the confusion, tore off the cloth, and disclosed a face horribly mutilated, and streaming with blood.
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