The following morning found him in the doctor's waiting room, a black cigar turning unlighted in his teeth. When gallant TOM SHEPPARD to Tyburn was led,— "Stop the cart at the Crown—stop a moment," he said. Chapter XXVIII THE HISSING OF “ALCIDE” There was a strange and ominous murmur of voices, a shuffling of feet in the gallery, a silence, which was like the silence before a storm.
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