He refused his food,—and even when better provisions were offered him, rejected them. Selecting a key from the heavy bunch committed to him by Austin, he threw open the door, and beheld Blueskin seated at the back of the small chamber, handcuffed, and with his feet confined in a heavy pair of stocks. One glance swept across the place and it was immediately apparent that Pottiswick had not, this time, been mistaken. In the northwest angle, there was a small pen for female offenders, and, on the south, a more commodious enclosure appropriated to the master-debtors and strangers. . “You may talk—if you can talk cheerfully, not unless. I bound him up good and tight, stuffed his mouth with a length of rope, taped it shut.
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