But the cases were not identical. I'll turn cracksman, like my father—rob old Wood—he has chests full of money, and I know where they're kept—I'll rob him, and give the swag to you, Poll—I'll—" Jack would have said more; but, losing his balance, he fell to the ground, and, when taken up, he was perfectly insensible. Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth. His hat was placed upon one pole, his wig on another. “You are mistaken, David. "I leave this bowl for you," he cried, returning it to the landlord untasted. "Can you not love him?" "Love him!" echoed the widow. ‘Oh, peste.
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