On his first entrance, a prisoner, if unable or unwilling to comply with the exactions of the turnkeys, was thrust into the Condemned Hold with the worst description of criminals, and terrified by threats into submission. “You’re mad, Sebastianus. The evenings were beginning to draw out, and it would not be dark for an hour. He had nothing to guide him; for though the torches were blazing ruddily below, their gleam fell only on the side of the building. To dream and to labour: to you, my labour; to Ruth, my dreams.
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