I’ve—dreads. What matters it? My servant, he is wounded—and by a Frenchman, if you wish to make an arrest. "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. Do not slight my warning.
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