After knocking for some time at the door without effect, he tried the latch, and to his surprise found it open. Some of the lunatics were rattling their chains; some shrieking; some singing; some beating with frantic violence against the doors. A beachcomber in embryo, and she had lent a hand through habit as much as through pity. They were now in a sort of cellar, at one end of which was a door. A simple wooden monument was placed over the grave, but without any name or date. What had urged her to wrench loose and fly was the guarding instinct of the good woman.
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