Here the prisoners took exercise; and a quaint, but striking picture has been left of their appearance when so engaged, by the author of the English Rogue. Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne. She was not afraid exactly, but there was that about her loneliness to-night she distrusted. “You must tell me the truth, please. Ruth had not expected to be kissed; so the omission passed unnoted. This isn’t the place.
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