His face was much handsomer than Gianfrancesco’s, his lips thinner, his brow much more noble and wise. ‘Don’t look at me like that,’ Martha begged. It was a night of storm and terror, which promised each moment to become more stormy and more terrible. Montressor’s guests. Not Trodger. She felt a cheat and a sneak to his unsuspecting retreating back. This was some satisfaction to the poor fellow, who was dreadfully frightened, as indeed he might well be, it being the opinion of the jailers and others who afterwards examined the place, that Jack had accomplished, single-handed, in a few hours, and, as far as it could be ascertained, with imperfect implements, what it would have taken half a dozen men several days, provided with proper tools, to effect. “I’m next, Mr.
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