A crisis of some kind was toward. "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. Kneebone, I came hither as your guest. At every step he seemed to be haunted by the ghost of the past. Wood.
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