Throwing the blanket over his left arm and shouldering the iron bar, he again clambered up the chimney; regained the Red Room; hurried along the first passage; crossed the Chapel; threaded the entry to the Lower Leads; and, in less than ten minutes after quitting the Castle, had reached the northern extremity of the prison. Except for the dull eyes and the extreme pallor of his face, there was nothing else to indicate that he was deep in liquor. It came with an extreme effect of re-discovery, a remarkable novelty. “There, there, now. “Anything is better than this—this stifled life down here. Nigel Ennison was he. He it was who formed the grand design of a robber corporation, of which he should be the sole head and director, with the right of delivering those who concealed their booty, or refused to share it with him, to the gallows. Almost at the same moment the door opened and Brendon entered, followed by the doctor.
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