He smiled complacently. Here they would be having lunch. Meantime, every preparation had been made outside for his departure. "You are my prisoner, Jack. At this moment, the landlord of the Crown, a jovial-looking stout personage, with a white apron round his waist, issued from the house, bearing a large wooden bowl filled with ale, which he offered to Jack, who instantly rose to receive it. He was draining a glass, and as he set it down he shuddered.
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