Within that dungeon lay Captain Bew, Rumbold and Whitney—a jolly crew! All carved their names on the stone, and all Share the fate of the brave Du Val! With their chisels so fine, tra la! "Save us!" continued the apprentice, "I hope this beam doesn't resemble the Newgate stone; or I may chance, like the great men the song speaks of, to swing on the Tyburn tree for my pains. The other lay unconscious in a heap. Spurling, who had been hastily compounding another bowl of punch. Ruth was at that stage where the absorption of facts is great, but where the mental digestion is not quite equal to the task. If my conjectures are right, this boy would stay there indefinitely.
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