He fancied that the turnkeys had discovered his flight and were in pursuit of him,—that they had climbed up the chimney,—entered the Red Room,— tracked him from door to door, and were now only detained by the gate which he had left unbroken in the chapel. "It was that song that put it into my head to cut my name on the beam. And it’s no good pretending there is one when there isn’t.
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