‘There’s a surgeon on his way, and my men are under orders to do whatever is needful. ‘I suppose he isn’t this Leonardo you spoke of?’ ‘Certainly he is not Leonardo. "Oh! Jack! Jack!—you little know what a price I've paid for you!" "Well, I'm glad those women are gone," remarked Shotbolt. Taking his way along East Smithfield, mounting Little Tower-hill, and threading the Minories and Hounsditch, he arrived without accident or molestation, at Moorfields.
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