The ledge, along which he crawled, was about a foot wide. "Farewell!" blubbered the executioner's wife, pressing his hand to her lips. "Si—lence!" vociferated Charcam, laying great emphasis on the last syllable. " "It'll be over in a few minutes," rejoined Jonathan, impatiently; "in fact, it'll be over too soon for me. "Do you take me for a thiefcatcher, like Jonathan Wild, that you dare to affront me by such a proposal?" "No offence, Sir," rejoined the jailer, humbly. Her father’s step quickened to a trot. Abruptly he gripped her wrist. Her father for fifteen years, and you now for the rest of her life! Tell her you're a thief. I’ve got too much work. He lost control of the machine. He will tell you confidentially that he simply hates the place. I’d take it— forgive me if I seem a little urgent—as a sort of proof of friendliness. I thought every one had heard about it. The cell in which she was confined was about six feet long and four wide; the walls were scored all over with fantastic designs, snatches of poetry, short sentences and names,—the work of its former occupants, and of its present inmate.
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