Sydney sprang up. As soon as he had gained his feet, he glanced round the bare blank walls of the cell, and, oppressed by the musty, close atmosphere, exclaimed, "I'll let a little fresh air into this dungeon. I don’t think I shall ever care for this bonnet again. " "Caught you napping, eh?" rejoined Ireton, with a laugh. " "No," replied Sir Rowland, who appeared completely prostrated. “It’s like Troy!” said a voice of rapture.
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