It was a dull, foggy day, and the atmosphere was so thick and heavy, that, at eight o'clock, the curious who arrived near the prison could scarcely discern the tower of St. Groping their way through one or two dark and mouldy-smelling vaults, the party ascended a flight of steps, which brought them to the hall. . A distant suggestion of chalets and a glimpse of the road set them talking for a time of the world they had left behind. “Sir John is not at all that sort. I felt his heart.
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