He had now reached what was called the Lower Leads,—a flat, covering a part of the prison contiguous to the gateway, and surrounded on all sides by walls about fourteen feet high. “You are talking like a boy. From time to time, however, he was baffled. There is something that inspires a feeling of inexpressible melancholy in sailing on a dark night upon the Thames. "Go to the pump, Nab," he said, when this was done, "and fill a pail with water. "I am only fit for such as him. "I have not many days,—perhaps, not many hours to live. Moments are ages now.
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