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. Sharples received them at the threshold, and holding his lantern towards the prisoners to acquaint himself with their features, nodded to Quilt, between whom and himself some secret understanding seemed to subsist, and then closed and barred the door. You don't realize what you have done. If it wasn’t for the fear that after all—but we won’t think of that. ” Ennison dropped the evening paper which he had been pretending to read. It was empty.
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