Rhea went down, screeching and clawing at the air for the sword, which clanked heavily on the ground. "Enough!" exclaimed Wild, triumphantly. His gray eyes were closed, his persimmon-colored lips open and panting. There he sat as before, with the heavy fetters on his limbs, and beside him sat his three companions, who had since expiated their offences on the gibbet. "Tell him that I—his adopted son, Thames Darrell— am detained here by Jonathan Wild. He had taken it back. You are nothing of the sort.
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