The only circumstance which served to awaken a darker feeling in his breast was, that his implacable foe Jonathan Wild had survived the wound inflicted by Blueskin, and was slowly recovering. "Let us in," said the Master, rapping his truncheon authoritatively against the boards, "or we'll force an entrance. Loose the wherry, and stand to your oars—quick—quick!" These commands were promptly obeyed.
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