"Is your master at home?" inquired the jailer. Your pursuers are below. "Look at these fetters," returned Thames, holding up his manacled wrists; "they were put on by my uncle's command. The turning of the key startled her, but she did not see how she could make an objection. Upstairs, in the little dressing-room, the panel was opened by means of tugging a small candlesconce in the wall. I'm hungry.
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