She rang again with the same result. Last week. As he gazed down into the courts of the prison, he could not help shuddering, lest a false step might precipitate him below. Oh! you haven't got the key—then I must have it, I suppose. He next twisted the heavy gyves round and round, and partly by main strength, partly by a dexterous and well-applied jerk, sapped asunder the central link by which they were attached to the padlock. The plank hung over his head. If only sometimes he would grow angry at her, impatient! But his tender courtesy was unfailing; and under this would be the abiding bitterness of having mistaken gratitude for love.
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