I ask you, although it is not my place to ask you, to return home. Some years after the date of this history, an immense ventilator was placed at the top of the Gate, with the view of purifying the prison, which, owing to its insufficient space and constantly-crowded state, was never free from that dreadful and contagious disorder, now happily unknown, the jail-fever. I have—run away. “I couldn’t help it. “I know nothing whatever of his friends or his home. On the left lay the heights of Hampstead, studded with villas, while farther off a hazy cloud marked the position of the metropolis.
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