When the turnkey, next morning, stepp'd into his room, The sight of the hole in the wall struck him dumb; The sheriff's black bracelets lay strewn on the ground, But the lad that had worn 'em could nowhere be found. They began to wrestle fiercely. It wound around a small manufactured lake. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. Hearing a noise below, Quilt called out, supposing it occasioned by the Jew.
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