And, if ever I'm brought to the gallows, I shall lay my death at her door. She was fine and tender. Down on your marrow-bones, sirrah! Confess your guilt, and Sir Rowland may yet save you from the gallows. We are alone, Sir Rowland," he added, snuffing the candles, glancing cautiously around, and lowering his tone, "and what you confide to me shall never transpire,—at least to your disadvantage.
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