Within that dungeon lay Captain Bew, Rumbold and Whitney—a jolly crew! All carved their names on the stone, and all Share the fate of the brave Du Val! With their chisels so fine, tra la! "Save us!" continued the apprentice, "I hope this beam doesn't resemble the Newgate stone; or I may chance, like the great men the song speaks of, to swing on the Tyburn tree for my pains. Immediately behind this individual, came a pale, poverty-stricken woman, whose forlorn aspect contrasted strongly with his plump and comfortable physiognomy. Here was the place behind the shed where she had used to hide from Roddy’s persecutions, and here the border of herbaceous perennials under whose stems was fairyland. "Hurrah!" shouted he, waving his hat triumphantly over his head. I daresay you have the whole thing wrong, Gerald. My goodness gracious.
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