"So I think," replied Kneebone, again applying to the snuff-box, and by that means escaping the angry glance levelled at him by his companion. Meanwhile, the executioner had attached strong cords to his ankles and wrists, and fastened them tightly to the iron rings. “You were born for great things,” he said huskily. ’ A peal of delighted laughter greeted this threat. The odds were astounding and yet he had it bad.
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