CHAPTER III. " "Jack's a noble fellow," exclaimed the head-jailer of Clerkenwell Prison, raising his glass; "and, though he played me a scurvy trick, I'll drink to his speedy deliverance. " Sir Rowland looked bewildered with surprise. It seemed older than Rome, and the stone covering it gave resistance. This isn’t the place. Here was a terrific figure gnashing his teeth, and howling like a wild beast;—there a lover, with hands clasped together and eyes turned passionately upward. Published by Elizabeth Bailey 2012 www.
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