Feel for the lock, and prize it open,—you don't need to be told how. Not a word was uttered for some time, nor any sound heard except the stilled sobs of the unfortunate mother. She seemed to think he was merely the paymaster, handing over the means of her freedom. The place was gloomy, with its darkly panelled walls, but it was sparsely furnished. He was roused from the stupor of despair into which he had sunk by the voice of Ben, who roared in his ear, "The bridge!—the bridge!" CHAPTER VII.
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