"Ay, robbed him," reiterated Jonathan. The massive door was unlocked, and they entered the cell. They were so nearly alike that the difference would be due to a shaky hand. The funeral procession had now approached the grave, around which many of the congregation, who were deeply interested by the sad ceremonial, had gathered. There was all the knavery, and more than all the drollery of a Spanish picaroon in the laughing eyes of the English apprentice; and, with a little more warmth and sunniness of skin on the side of the latter, the resemblance between them would have been complete. No one spoke, and she was impelled to flounder on.
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