She came back with two women, one in each arm, which she threw down like sticks as she alit onto the stone causeway. Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps. What's-your-name?" "Shotbolt, Sir," replied the jailer. The latter had delivered himself from one of his assailants, the attendant, Davies. It had ceased now, but as he closed in on the area, a faint muttering came to his ears.
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