His arm entered the round window of the white haze of her vision, his wrist spouting blood in currents, dripping on the stone floor. The entrance was concealed between two huge boulders within a clump of trees, and was now so overgrown that no one who did not know of its existence could ever hope to find it. Some years after the date of this history, an immense ventilator was placed at the top of the Gate, with the view of purifying the prison, which, owing to its insufficient space and constantly-crowded state, was never free from that dreadful and contagious disorder, now happily unknown, the jail-fever. ‘Yes, but I’m probably chasing moonbeams.
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