At the head of the cart was placed the coffin. C below. Ah! how I wish, poor dear Sir Cecil were alive! he'd keep him in order. And also I have this Prudence. She was not squeamish—although the sight of the sergeant’s ominous preparations had severely tried her fortitude—but Kimble’s white face plagued her conscience. And were you to load me with thrice the weight of iron you have ordered you should not prevent my escaping a third time.
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