At length, about three o'clock, as the first glimmer of dawn became visible through the barred casements of the round-house, the rattling of bolts and chains at the outer door told that some one was admitted. "My chickens are hatched, or, at least, nearly so," replied Shotbolt, with increased merriment. “In self-defence I had to,” she answered. I give you the plain, unadulterated truth.
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