" "Your secret?" demanded Trenchard, impatiently. As Jack appeared to be sinking fast, his fetters were removed, his own clothes were returned to him, and he was allowed a mattress and a scanty supply of bed-linen. I've left mine on the spikes of the New Prison, and must borrow yours. It is useless to talk. A male voice, vibrant with terror, yelled out hoarsely.
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