. On their return, the jailers raised up Jonathan, who was weltering in his blood, and who appeared to be dying. There was now no honest way of warning Taber that the net had been drawn. But at this point he was still subservient, still outwardly humble, in spite of the blackhearted villainy that was even then burgeoning in his breast. A sprinkling of callow youths, and a couple of pronounced young Jews, who were talking loudly together in some unintelligible jargon of the City. “Why should I bear the burden of your wickedness? Who knows what might come of it? I shall permit nothing of the sort.
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