" "Pshaw!" cried Thames. The Iron Bar 397 XVIII. If hate could kill, Ramage would have been killed by a flash of hate. He had him removed from the Condemned Hold, stripped of his fine apparel, clothed in the most sordid rags, loaded with additional fetters, and thrust into the Stone Hold,—already described as the most noisome cell in the whole prison. You never saw him before yesterday. Each arm of the blouse had the faintest of rings around the elbow, a stain that looked familiar. " Glad to make peace on any terms, Mr. " "Of what am I accused?" asked Thames, who though a good deal alarmed at first, had now regained his courage.
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