"At my first being acquainted with the place," says this writer, in the 'Miseries of a Prison,' "the prisoners, methought, walking up and down the Stone Hall, looked like so many wrecks upon the sea. Earles closed the piano with a little bang. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. The spirit of disaffection was busy throughout the kingdom. Jacques, Jacques!’ His face was white, but his eyes were open, if a trifle glazed. "Will he live?" asked Ruth.
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