Into the second, denominated the Bilbowes,—also a dismal place,—refractory prisoners were thrust, and placed in a kind of stocks, whence the name. "Heard of your escapes. I can’t explain—” They regarded one another, each blinded to the other. Meanwhile, the excitement of the chase had in some degree subsided. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him.
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