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Making her couch upon a heap of hay, she sank at once into a deep and refreshing slumber. There were neither texts nor rubbish on the walls, but only a stirring version of Belshazzar’s feast, a steel engraving in the early Victorian manner that had some satisfactory blacks. He staggered back a few paces; and, before he could recover himself, Thames tripped up his heels, and, placing the point of the spike at his throat, threatened to stab him if he attempted to stir, or cry out. "My name is Darrell," said the fugitive hastily. ’ She shook her head. There is no hidden beast in you, Hoddy. ’ ‘Pah!’ ‘Precisely. If you choose, you can see him put on board the Zeeslang yourself, Sir Rowland.
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