A fresh cool breeze blew in their faces. She was only a few yards from the door, but lacked the courage to rise and fly. She was looking about her, and her face was dark with anger. It was a gorgeous May evening, the air redolent with the soapy purple scents of hyacinth and lilac. " "I will be there," answered Trenchard, gloomily. In a sense I don’t care. 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.
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