"He hash a long journey before him—ha! ha!" "Peace!" cried Jonathan. “I imagine,” Sir John said, “that your sister would acquaint him with it. The windows were grated, the doors barred; each room had the name as well as the appearance of a cell; and the very porter who stood at the gate, habited like a jailer, with his huge bunch of keys at his girdle, his forbidding countenance and surly demeanour seemed to be borrowed from Newgate. This done, Edgeworth Bess, who watched her opportunity, slipped out of the Lodge.
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