"Prisoner at the bar," thus ran the sentence, "you shall be taken to the prison from whence you came, and put into a mean room, stopped from the light; and shall there be laid on the bare ground, without any litter, straw, or other covering, and without any garment. Battle, murder, and sudden death—and an old chap like McClintock tuning his piano in the midst of it. Stanley pronounced, and seemed to hesitate whether he had not gone too far.
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