"Troth, and so did you," returned the watchman; "but I couldn't belave it. It was a bogus affair altogether, kept by some blackguard or other of an Englishman. A chill ran through his frame, and, grasping the heavy weapon with which chance had provided him, prepared to strike down the first person who should enter the cell. I have done n-nothing. Oh, you cannot escape from it. I'm almost sorry I've sworn to hang you. The summer arrived, speeding the Plague and with it the famine in the streets.
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