The next page was a drawing that she had made in pen and ink of his face, or what she had remembered of it. ‘Not from the nuns, no. This done, he unloosed the pulley, and the ponderous machine, which resembled a trough, slowly descended upon the prisoner's breast. That he had resolved upon its execution, whatever it might be, was evident from his saying aloud,— "I will do it. "Mercy on us!" cried he, as a thrill of apprehension ran through his frame. I cannot turn into a bat. "But it won't do.
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