"No such thing," rejoined the jailer; "he's coming on business. Ascending the stairs, and conducting them along a sombre gallery, in which Trenchard noticed that every door was painted black, and numbered, he stopped at the entrance of a chamber; and, selecting a key from the bunch at his girdle, unlocked it. “I’m not going to kill you, John. ” “Please don’t let him know I’m here yet. Get the pole out of your ass. What a mercy that the blow aimed at her by the ruffian, Wild, though it brought her to the brink of the grave, should have restored her to reason! Ah! she stirs.
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