” “And mine,” murmured his companion, with the smile still lingering upon his lips. I am almost old enough to be your father. . "Stir a foot, at your peril. Throwing the blanket over his left arm and shouldering the iron bar, he again clambered up the chimney; regained the Red Room; hurried along the first passage; crossed the Chapel; threaded the entry to the Lower Leads; and, in less than ten minutes after quitting the Castle, had reached the northern extremity of the prison. As he looked up at the massive tower, the clock tolled forth the hour of midnight. I've left mine on the spikes of the New Prison, and must borrow yours.
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