As he crossed this chamber, his foot struck against something on the floor, which nearly threw him down, and stooping to examine the object, he found it was a key. You can’t do that sort of thing unless you do it over religion, and there’s no religion in me—of that sort—worth a rap. The cell in which she was confined was about six feet long and four wide; the walls were scored all over with fantastic designs, snatches of poetry, short sentences and names,—the work of its former occupants, and of its present inmate. ‘You are not at all stupid. Hastily ascending these steps, Jack found the door, as he anticipated, locked. He panted for a moment with unuttered replies, and then, with a scornful gesture, got up and left the cell. Whether the turnkey entertained any suspicion of the old man, Jack could not tell, but that night he was more than usually rigorous in his search; and having carefully examined the prisoners and finding nothing to excite his suspicions, he departed tolerably satisfied.
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