He had him removed from the Condemned Hold, stripped of his fine apparel, clothed in the most sordid rags, loaded with additional fetters, and thrust into the Stone Hold,—already described as the most noisome cell in the whole prison. Close behind him stood the tall gaunt figure of Marvel, with his large bony hands, his scraggy neck, and ill-favoured countenance. "Or trying to be," answered the doctor. And when, at length, it was struck, he wanted energy to pursue his advantages. The glance, which he threw at the door, was singularly expressive of his character: it was a mixture of alarm, effrontery, and resolution. “Why destroy me, child? There are so many secrets I 231 could tell you. “Tut, tut!” he said.
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