Wood was unable to discover the figure of the widow, but he recognised her dry, hacking cough, and was about to call her down, if she could not find the key, as he imagined must be the case, when a loud noise was heard, as though a chest, or some weighty substance, had fallen upon the floor. “Wonderful!” “I have always longed for prison service,” said a voice, “always. "Put down your burthen, monster!" shouted Wood, pointing an immense blunderbuss at him.
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