When the prisoner was removed from the dock, we met Jonathan as we passed through the yard. "With all my heart!" replied Wood. There was a girlfriend who was mentally ill. He'll be brought out at this door, and may probably make some resistance. The girl’s eyes never left his face. I walked London till the soles of my shoes were worn through, and my toes were blistered. And, now, to find a messenger. Only she sent me a message, and together we found a cottage for her to stay at. Kneebone, having been alarmed by something in the widow's look before her feelings found vent in the manner above described, thrust his hand instinctively into his coat in search of his pocket-book,—about the security of which, as it contained several letters and documents implicating himself and others in the Jacobite plot, he was, not unnaturally, solicitous,—and finding it gone, he felt certain he had been robbed.
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