On the cords being removed, he made a desperate spring at Wild, bore him to the ground, clutched at his throat, and would, infallibly, have strangled him, if the keepers had not all thrown themselves upon him, and by main force torn him off. The lantern was on the ground inside, ready. So, at least, thought one of two persons who were seated together in a small back-parlour of the house at Dollis Hill.
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