The window was shortly after opened, and a rope ladder, with a lighted horn lantern attached to it, let down. Another coach was then procured, in which the prisoner was placed. That there Frenchie didn’t look any too friendly to me. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. After great exertions on both parts, the spike yielded to their combined strength, and snapped suddenly off. Anna and her escort exchanged glances. .
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