The fellow Kimble, to whom Gerald was indebted, was gaping. "How shall I get to you?" "My yacht is in the river. Sheppard, as a storm of furious voices resounded from below, and torches were seen mounting the stairs; "they are coming!—they are coming!—fly!—to the roof! to the roof. The very carts and vans and cabs that Wellington Street poured out incessantly upon the bridge seemed ripe and good in her eyes. Accordingly, he proceeded to a gate which stood upon the south, and guarded the passage communicating with the leads.
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