With this view, he hurried to the spot where he had left the post-chaise, and found it drawn up at the road-side, the postilion dismounted, and in charge of a couple of farming-men. On examination it proved to be a flat bar of iron, nearly a yard in length, and more than an inch square. Monroe would lock the whole group of us in the basement, every day. He hung precariously on the ragged edge, but he hung there.
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