“I’m thirsty. 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. Earles said, rubbing his hands together, “by post. The door was too strong, and too well secured, to break open,—the walls too thick: but the ceiling,—if he could reach it—there, he doubted not, he could make an outlet. It isn’t pretty, but we’re made so. And the door was suddenly thrown open, and the two janizaries felled to the ground by the strong arm of the stalwart robber.
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