CHAPTER THE THIRD THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS Part 1 Two days after came the day of the Crisis, the day of the Fadden Dance. The wretch you confide in has sworn to hang you. "Thus," replied the prize-fighter. You are different, Lucia, undamaged even after what you have been through, still pure of heart. He had now reached what was called the Lower Leads,—a flat, covering a part of the prison contiguous to the gateway, and surrounded on all sides by walls about fourteen feet high.
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