The smell of gunpowder was strong in the room. Sheppard was no sooner alone than she fell upon her knees by the side of the couch, and poured forth her heart in prayer. Where the robber may cheer His spirit with beer, And drown in a sea of good liquor all fear! For nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles So well as a draught from the Bowl of Saint Giles! III.
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