There was no light in the room; but, notwithstanding this, the young man did not fail to detect the buxom figure of Mrs. "You'll be as good as your word, my charmer," whispered the executioner. He got out in much the same way from the Gatehouse,—stole the keys, and passed through a room where I was sitting half-asleep in a chair. What was his transport on perceiving that a few yards above him a light was burning.
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