The clouds were nearly black with rain, threatening to spill sleet in daggers and torrents. "I did see them on the platform of the bridge—the child and his preserver! They were not struck by the fallen ruin, nor whelmed in the roaring flood,—or, if they were, they escaped as I escaped. He then scaled the northern tower, and made his way to the summit of that part of the prison which fronted Giltspur Street.
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