After venting his wrath in the wildest manner, and uttering the most dreadful execrations, Jonathan retired to another part of the prison, where he passed the night in consultation with the governor, as to the best means of conveying the prisoner securely to Tyburn. His cheeks were puffy, and his eyes blood-shot. " "Who told you this is his portrait?" demanded Trenchard. Looked like them statues of the Holy Mother I see about the place.
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