Ascending the stairs, and conducting them along a sombre gallery, in which Trenchard noticed that every door was painted black, and numbered, he stopped at the entrance of a chamber; and, selecting a key from the bunch at his girdle, unlocked it. ‘You keep a-hold of him,’ Trodger ordered his men. Now, it was a wilderness of weeds. ‘And why have you not arrested him? Do not tell me you have allowed him to escape you.
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