At length, about three o'clock, as the first glimmer of dawn became visible through the barred casements of the round-house, the rattling of bolts and chains at the outer door told that some one was admitted. " "Loved me! You!" "I loved you," continued Jonathan, "and struck by your appearance, which seemed above your station, inquired your history, and found you had been stolen by a gipsy in Lancashire. " "Try the cellar, Captain," said Blueskin, stamping upon a large board in the ground. There are men in the Lowndean who laugh at him—simply laugh at him.
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