The night his execution was therefore passed in a most anxious state of mind; nor was his uneasiness allayed by the appearance of Jonathan Wild, who, after he had been driven from the roof of the jail, repaired to the Middle Stone Ward in a fit of ungovernable passion, to vent his rage upon the prisoner, whom he looked upon as the cause of the present calamity. Even the stars were strangers. Entering the house, he found himself in a narrow passage leading to the back stairs. The life with which he had endued these sheets of paper began to beckon imperiously.
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