While he was straining every sinew, his foot slipped, and he fell, head foremost, into a deep trench, which he had not observed in the dark. He heard the struggle on the landing, the fall of the heavy body, the groan,—and excited almost to frenzy by his fears, he succeeded in forcing open the door. Lucy went hunting on a Thursday night. Besides this, the door was crossed and recrossed by iron bars, clenched by broad-headed nails. "Not I," replied Blueskin. "Well, Jack," said the prize-fighter, in a rough, but friendly voice, and with a cutand-thrust abrupt manner peculiar to himself; "how are you, lad, eh? Sorry to see you here. They’re too free for their innocence or too innocent for their freedom.
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