The chair, meanwhile, with its unhappy load, was transported at a brisk pace to Newgate. Full twenty highwaymen blithe and bold, Rattled their chains in that dungeon old; Of all that number there 'scaped not one Who carved his name on the Newgate Stone. Raven locks fell to her shoulders from under the feathered beaver hat, and curled away down her back. “I will not have this slavery.
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