“One hardly knows—all the time. When any violent outrage was committed,—and such matters were of daily, sometimes hourly, occurrence,—a bell, the rope of which descended into the hall, brought the whole of the turnkeys to their assistance. Cautioning the knight, if he valued his neck, to tread carefully, Jonathan then descended a steep flight of steps; and, having reached the bottom in safety, he pushed open a door, that swung back on its hinges as soon as it had admitted him; and, followed by Trenchard, entered the night-cellar. I am going to take you entirely at your word. Ray Plote would not leave a written explanation. He returned figuratively to his bed—the bed he had made for himself and in which he must for ever lie.
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