It was the gallows. " "Bah!" returned the woollen-draper. If he got her outside, surely the soldiers would see her and intervene. Satisfied with his scrutiny, he produced a pocket-flask, and taking off the silver cup with which it was mounted, filled it with the contents of the flask, and then seizing the thin arm of the sleeper, rudely shook it. Drink, and no sustaining food. "That's not an easy question to answer," rejoined Blueskin.
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