He took about five minutes. "At a place we call the Dark House at Queenhithe," answered Jonathan, "a sort of under-ground tavern or night-cellar, close to the river-side, and frequented by the crew of the Dutch skipper, to whose care he's to be committed. This was the reason he had raised his little independent Company of Light Infantry and joined the West Kent Militia. There was the world besides, looming darker and larger. It was a bright and beautiful day: so bright, so beautiful, that even her sad heart was cheered by it. “Please stop by.
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