It creaked slightly. The lace was family lace, easily recognizable. He had him removed from the Condemned Hold, stripped of his fine apparel, clothed in the most sordid rags, loaded with additional fetters, and thrust into the Stone Hold,—already described as the most noisome cell in the whole prison. "Heaven be praised, I am not the son of a nobleman. Get it off your soul. It had been her home for hundreds of years. The less said, therefore, on this point the better; because, as nothing is to be gained by it, it would only be trouble thrown away.
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